The Fischer Job
by diceandpokerchips
Summary: Arthur's take on the Fischer job and his changing relationship with Eames. Rated M for language and themes in later chapters.
1. Extraction

Disclaimer: **I own none of the Inception characters, that exclusive and lucky right belongs solely to Christopher Nolan.**

**I don't have a beta, so I'm relying solely on spellcheck and I do read it through myself before I upload it, but some mistakes may still get through.**

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><p>"What's the most resilient parasite? A bacteria? A virus?" Cobb paused and gestured at Saito's plate. "An intestinal worm?"<p>

My head shot up at his words, noting that Saito's fork paused half way to his mouth. _What is he doing? He'll blow the whole operation!_

I spoke up hastily, and placing my fork down quietly, trying to save both the pitch and our lives.

"Uh…what Mr Cobb is trying to say…"

Cobb cut me off. "An idea."

I mentally sighed in relief as Cobb regained Saito's interest, and took a moment to once again intake our surroundings. Our meeting took place in an elegant dining room, surrounded by screens: beautifully decorated with trees. It was of tasteful design, lanterns creating a slight glow to the room, a long black glossy dining table was the centre piece, with our target, Mr Saito, at the head of it.

"Resilient, highly contagious." Cobb continued, taking full advantage of the fact that he had Saito's full attention. "Once an idea has taken hold in the brain, it's almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed, fully understood, that sticks." He gestured to his forehead. "Right in there somewhere."

Saito lowered his eyes to his food, once again adopting a laidback approach.

"For someone like you to steal?" He questioned Cobb nonchalantly, but sensing I wouldn't like Cobb's response, I spoke up.

"Yes. In the dream state, your conscious defences are lowered and it makes your thoughts vulnerable to theft. It's called extraction."

I saw a glint appear in Saito's eyes as I spoke. Cobb was now gesturing with his hands as he spoke, a trait he only adopted when he was sure something wasn't right. He'd noticed it too.

"Mr Saito, we can train your subconscious to defend itself from even the most skilled extractor."

For the first time since our meeting began, the mark's poker face slipped and I saw scepticism in his gaze.

"How can you do that?" He asked.

"Because I _am_ the most skilled extractor." Cobb stated promptly. It was no lie, I'd been Cobb's partner for a while now, and knew his capabilities better than anyone, except perhaps Mal.

"I know how to search your mind and find your secrets. I know the tricks…and I can teach them to you so that even when you're asleep, your defence is never down." He stood up. "Look, if you want my help, you're going to have to be completely open with me. I need to know my way around your thoughts better than your … wife, better than your therapist, better than anyone. If this is a dream, and you have a safe full of secrets, I need to know what's in that safe. In order for this all to work, you need to completely let me in."

As soon as Cobb mentioned the safe, I saw Saito's eyes flicker to the wall on his right, directly behind me. I remained passive, but still focused on the conversation. Unfortunately, the smirk on the mark's face as Cobb finished speaking, spoke volumes.

Saito rose, dabbing delicately as his mouth with his napkin.

"Enjoy your evening, gentlemen, as I consider your proposal" He left to rejoin his guests, leaving us alone in his dining room.

"He knows." Those two words were enough to sum up everything I was currently feeling. The nerves, the shock, the fear of what would happen if we failed. If Cobol Engineering found out we'd failed, it would be up to me as the point man to make sure we could disappear, to make sure they could never find us.

Of course they never would, though there were very few of us who were able to pull off extraction, it was well known that I was the best at what I did, but this wasn't just my own life at stake. If anything happened to Cobb, his children would be left without both their parents. It was a lot of pressure to be placed under.

My inner turmoil was interrupted by a deep rumbling sound, and the lanterns on the ceiling began shaking. I frowned, and knew Cobb would be sporting a matching expression. My wine glass started shaking on the table, and I looked up at the ceiling, voicing aloud the question that was now worrying me.

"What's going on up there?"

I saw Cobb look at his watch and followed suit. The second hand was going unnaturally fast. My brain was racing with all the possibilities of what could be causing the sudden instability on this level. Nash was alone up there, against my better judgements. As the point man, I made it a top priority to fully research everyone we potentially worked with. Nash's record had turned up far from spotless; a lot of people whom he had worked with in the past were now otherwise indisposed, to put it delicately.

A little more probing had found out that Nash's working relationships with these teams only ended upon the failure of a job. I knew he would sell us out if there was even the sniff of a failure. But if it did fail, we had bigger fish to fry. Cobol didn't accept mistakes. I hadn't spoken to Cobb about my fears, but I was uneasy not being able to keep an eye on Nash.

With a gesture of his head, Cobb motioned for us to go. He walked past a waiter and took a glass of iced water as we headed outside. Here we were less likely to be overheard, mainly because there were fewer people occupying the balcony. As we stepped out, another vibration took a few tiles off the roof.

"Saito knows. He's playing with us." I fumed at what the _hell_ Nash was doing up there; his idiocy momentarily my priority, taking precedence over the slightly more dangerous issue - that Saito knew what we were planning.

"Doesn't matter." Cobb dismissed my words. "I can get it here, trust me. The information is in the safe, he looked right at it when I mentioned secrets."

I was nodding my agreement when he mentioned Saito's obvious giveaway, but stopped listening as I spotted a woman appear behind Cobb, casually leaning against the balcony. My teeth gritted.

"What's she doing here?" My tone accusing, as I struggled to contain my temper. I resigned myself to the fact that we were going to have to run. There was no way this job was going to work, even with the little trick up our sleeve. I started mentally tracing the route I would take around the US until Cobol dropped the price on my head, while keeping my unflinching, hard gaze focused on Cobb, whose breath hitched as he caught sight of his wife.

"Just head back to the room, I'll take care of this." He walked over to her.

"Ok, make sure you do, we're here to work." I called after him, impatiently. How could he be so irresponsible? He needed to get his head focused if we had any chance at all of pulling off any successful jobs in the future. Every time we dreamshared, Mal would show up and wreck the whole thing. And she was getting more aggressive each time. The only problem was, I had no qualms with shooting her, but Cobb… he just couldn't let go of the guilt which consumed him long enough to realise she was only a projection.

I turned and headed back to the room Cobb and I were sharing, shaking my head to myself. After dreamsharing with both Cobb _and _Mal for nearly five years, I'd known them both pretty well. Mal was a lovely woman, but Cobb's projection of her twisted her into something bitter, selfish, but he was blind to all her flaws.

Sighing, I opened the door to the room Saito had provided for us. Or at least he thought he had. Heading across to the mini bar, I poured myself a drink, and then set it down without taking a sip. Nothing was more frustrating than being a dreamer, particularly on the second level. Any alcohol I drank would impair my senses and leave the dream completely unstable. I'd already had to leave the wine Saito had provided earlier untouched, a fact which had only added to his suspicion. Saito was a very sharp man, and very little escaped his notice.

Not for the first time, I wondered exactly what I was doing here. Cobb had been my comrade during the eight years we'd served in the army. It was how we'd gotten on to the dreamsharing project in the first place. After the project was complete, and our military time served, I'd worked with Cobb and Stephen Miles, a university lecturer a few decades older than me. He'd showed us how to navigate people's minds through their dreams, a skill we'd both quickly taken to. Dom and I had become friends more than partners, and I was the best man at his wedding to Miles' daughter, Mallorie.

I'd been there when a simple practice session went wrong, and Mal and Dom had been lost in limbo together. I'd had to stand there and witness her falling apart when she came back, adamant that our world, the _real _world was a dream. And upon her suicide, I was the one who Cobb had called, begging me to help him. It's difficult to express the horror I'd felt when he'd told me what she'd done, how she'd incriminated him in her death. When Cobol offered him a chance to remain free if he fled the country, it was inevitable that I went with him. Angry as I was, I couldn't give up dream work, and I wouldn't, _couldn't,_ work with another extractor. Cobb was the best there was. Since he'd fled the US, our relationship had become slightly more strained, but our friendship was still there, and even though he brought in unnecessary risks, I would never leave him, not while he needed me.

Suddenly I froze, a faint sound of footsteps outside my room had my head snapped up and my gun was in my hand so fast it was like it appeared there.

The footsteps grew louder and I could hear that there was too many for me to take on single handed, so I threw open the window and then dashed behind the door, hoping the advantage of surprise would be enough. Sure enough, the door burst open and four bulky men dashed in and straight over to the window. I raised my gun and had taken down three before the last had a chance to turn round. I saw the fear in his eyes as he accepted his inevitable fate. Although these were just projections of Saito's subconscious, killing never got easier.

I knew the sound would have attracted unwanted attention, so I dashed out of the door, and then stopped. My eyes fluttered shut for a second in sheer fury, and then I was grabbed roughly by two men.

"I knew this looked like your taste, Arthur." Mal said, stepping forward to brush a delicate finger down my arm to take my gun. At the same time, she gestured to a Francis Bacon painting on the wall.

"Actually, Mr Saito is partial to post-war British painters." I spoke calmly, but my eyes were glittering with rage. "What are you doing here, Mal?"

"Helping to protect my investment from people who were trying to steal it." As the voice spoke, I knew that this could only end very badly. Saito stepped in front of me. "You did your research well, Mr …" He broke off, realising he didn't know my name.

"This is Arthur." Mal finished, a slight smirk on her face. "He's harmless, he doesn't have the imagination to pull this off alone. And Dom is in the middle of opening your safe right now." She added.

Saito's face immediately twisted with anger, and he marched down the corridor, clicking his fingers. I knew struggling would be futile, but if I could just get away, or force them to shoot me, I could wake up and begin rectifying this mess. As it was, the men holding my arms took no notice of my struggles, and just marched after Saito, dragging me with them.

Saito and Mal stormed ahead, throwing open the doors to the dining room we'd been in earlier.

"Turn around!" Saito snapped.

"Put the gun down." Mal's voice brooked for no argument, but just as an added incentive, she pointed my gun straight at Cobb. When he made no move to lower his own weapon, I was dragged into the room behind them. Mal had a faint smirk on her face as she turned her weapon on to me.

"Please." She continued. I glared at her, ceasing my struggling, before turning my steely gaze on Cobb, clearly showing my annoyance.

His gaze met my own, the question unvoiced. I shook my head slightly, both willing him not to do anything reckless and to convey my disbelief at his sheer _unprofessionalism_. Allowing his own projections into the job was risky enough, but when you add to that the fact that Mal had a vendetta against any job we'd pulled recently, it was too much. When we woke up, I was going to kill him.

Looking back at Mal, and not taking his eyes off the gun she held to my head, Cobb leaned over and slid his gun onto the sleek dining table.

"Now the envelope, Mr Cobb." Saito ordered.

Cobb gestured with the envelope. "Did she tell you? Or have you known all along?"

He slid the envelope forward.

Saito stepped forward, an unpleasant smirk sliding onto his face. "That you are here to steal from me; or that we are actually asleep?"

I saw red. _You have got to be fucking kidding me! _I turned the full force of my infuriated gaze on Cobb. Mal had screwed up this whole operation, no, Cobb had. She was just his projection, nothing more. Our last hope was the first level, one I had hoped that we wouldn't have to resort to.

"I want to know the name of your employer." Saito continued. It wasn't a request. When Cobb didn't answer immediately, Mal cocked the gun.

"Ah, there's no use threatening him in a dream, right Mal?" Cobb spoke slowly, trying to soothe her, to distract her from shooting me.

"That depends on what you're threatening." She spoke slyly. "Killing him will just wake him up, but pain…" she paused, then lowered the gun and fire.

_FUCK. _I let out a strangled scream as a searing pain ripped through my leg. I doubled over, only the grip of Saito's bodyguards keeping me on my feet. I'd been shot before, many times, but the pain never got any easier to deal with. In my peripheral vision I saw Cobb flinch at the shot and his guilt was apparent at the agony clearly visible in every line of my face, from my gritted teeth to my wrinkled brow.

"Pain is in the mind." Mal continued calmly, as if she hadn't just shot me. She sashayed her hips as she circled around me, dragging her eyes away from Cobb to study me. "And judging by the décor, we're in your mind, aren't we, Arthur?"

I could barely hear her over my heavy panting, concentrating on breathing helped dull the pain slightly. She raised the gun again, aiming for my other leg, at the same time I saw Cobb dive for the table and grab the gun. Less than a second later, I heard another gun shot, and quickly registered that the bullet flying towards me. Its aim was true; I felt similar searing pain in my head for a moment, before everything went black.

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><p><strong>Reviews appreciated =]<strong>


	2. Escaping

Disclaimer: **I own none of the Inception characters, that exclusive and lucky right belongs solely to Christopher Nolan.**

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><p>My eyes flickered open immediately, the change in the environment confusing me for less than a second before I registered what had happened. Instantly I was on my feet, ripping the needle out of my arm.<p>

"What are you doing? It's too soon!" Nash panicked, sweat dripping down his brow. I grabbed the silver briefcase, extending the cable that was currently attached to Cobb's arm as I moved towards Saito.

"I know, but the dream's collapsing. Try to keep Saito under a little bit longer, we're almost there."

I started programming the PASIV as quickly as I could; trying everything within my capabilities to keep Saito asleep just a little while longer, but a few seconds was enough to tell me that it my efforts were futile.

"This isn't going to work, wake him up." I ordered Nash, still trying to flood more Somnacin into Saito as he was stirring. I could hear Nash struggling in the next room.

"He won't wake!" He called back at me. I could practically hear the panic rolling off him.

"Give him the kick!" I replied, scowling. _Really, we'd set him above a full bathtub of freezing cold water for a reason. Did Nash even have a brain?_

My answer was provided as Nash replied. "What?" He said blankly.

In frustration, I tore my eyes away from the machine to look at Nash. "Dunk him." I ordered. No sooner had the words left my mouth, I heard a gun cock. My attention snapped back to Saito and I faced another gun was pointing at my head. _For fucks sake, not again._

At the loud splash caused by Nash tipping Cobb into the bathtub, Saito scrambled up and fled towards the sound. I appeared in the doorway in time to see him bring the butt of his gun down on Nash's lower back, before he wrapped his arm around his throat, both incapacitating Nash from attacking him, and enabling Saito to point a gun at me for the second time that day. Luckily, he made a huge error by turning his back on Cobb, who proceeded to dive out of the water and bring them all to the floor, totally disarming Saito.

I ran my hand over my suit, effectively smoothing out any non-existent wrinkles, my nose wrinkled in distaste over the fact that Cobb was soaking wet, and was also transferring his dampness onto the others. I was very thankful it wasn't me. I liked my suits to be clean and well kept.

"He's out." Nash called, checking Saito. A glance told me he wasn't, he was just stunned, so I pulled him up and roughly pushed him into a chair. Normally, I'd have been a lot less forceful, but after being shot twice and threatened a third time, I was past the point of being patient. The noise of the rioters in the street was growing steadily louder. _Saito's projections, _I thought. I went to keep watch as Cobb took over, praying our last trick would work.

"You came prepared, hmm?" Cobb said, obviously referring to Saito's gun.

"Not even my head of security knows this apartment, how did you find it?" Saito frowned.

"It's very difficult for a man of your position to keep a love nest like this secret, particularly where there's a married woman involved." Cobb replied, casually. It was a lie. It had taken a long time, but I'd found it. If records existed anywhere, I could find them, no matter how tight the security.

"She would never." Saito's eyes tightened, but his tone was assertive and his smile was disbelieving.

"Yet here we are." Cobb shrugged. "With a dilemma."

I gritted my teeth as I saw the rioters approaching quickly. They would be here in a few moments; he had to get a move on.

"They're getting closer." I gestured towards the window, only allowing myself to look away for a second; we needed to be prepared to escape quickly.

"You got what you came for." Saito was disinterested in anything Cobb had to say, that much was clear.

"Well that's not true. You left out a key piece of information, didn't you?" While I knew it was phrased as a question, it wasn't. My research had shown Saito had experience with dreamsharing and would know not to hide his information in once place, so we had planned the strategy of using two layers to extract the information on both levels.

"You held something back, because you knew what we were up to. Question is, why'd you let us in at all?" Cobb continued.

Though I kept my eyes kept trained on the projections coming our way, I felt my body stiffen at Cobb's words. That was true. He'd known the whole time, and could have stopped us from getting anywhere near him. Why did he even let us try?

"An audition." Came Saito's cold response. _An audition? For what?_ I thought the exact words that Cobb instantly voiced aloud.

"Doesn't matter. You failed." Saito shook his head. He'd peaked both our interests, however, and made a damaging blow to Cobb's pride. _An audition?_ My mind was racing with possibilities, as I turned around to stare at him.

"We extracted every bit of information you had in there." Cobb argued.

"But your deception was obvious." Saito growled. My eyes flickered over to Cobb, confusion evident on my face, something that didn't happen often. A car exploding outside signalled the arrival of the projections. Then I heard something different. The sound of slowed down music. _Shit. The cue. _Grim, I exchanged a look with Nash, knowing we only had moments.

"So, leave me and go." Saito continued, oblivious to the music, or our haste, as he turned away.

Cobb leaned forward. "You don't seem to understand, Mr Saito, that corporation that hired us? They won't accept failure. We won't last two days."

The projections were right outside the building now, a swarming mass of rioters with fire, bombs and weapons. Our time had run out. I turned back to Cobb slightly. "Cobb." I said, making a circling gesture with my hand, to signal for him to wrap it up quickly.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to do this a little more simply." Cobb sighed, and got up. He threw Saito onto the floor, pointing the gun at him.

"Tell us what you know! Tell us what you know _now_!" He yelled, cocking the gun.

There was a pause as Saito's fingers flexed, and then he began to chuckle cruelly.

"I've always hated this carpet." He spoke quietly. "It's stained and frayed in such distinctive ways…"

I turned away from the window to see Nash look away from Saito, embarrassed, and I glanced down at Saito's form, lying on the carpet, fury building once more as I realised what had happened.

"But very definitely made of wool." He continued, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric. "And right now, I'm lying on polyester."

Cobb's jaw tightened as he figured it out and he glared at Nash, who shook his head, terrified.

Saito sat up. "Which means, I'm not lying on my carpet in my apartment. You have lived up to your reputation, Mr Cobb. I'm still dreaming." He spoke confidently.

An alarm went off, and my eyes flickered open to find myself back on the train with Todashi.

"How'd it go?" He asked, curiously.

"Not good." I spoke calmly, but I was inwardly raging. I moved him out of the way a little more roughly that I meant to as I woke the others up. Upon Nash's awakening, I tore into him.

"Asshole, how'd you mess up the carpet?" I growled. I'd been told Nash was competent. I'd never worked with anyone more _incompetent._ Now I understood why so many of Nash's jobs had failed, and how his team members had slowly been hunted down by Cobol. He was useless, and had totally destroyed our operation.

"It wasn't my fault." He whimpered, his eyes bulging in fear.

"You're the _architect_." I countered in disbelief, packing up the PASIV. Saito would only be under for a few more minutes and we still had to clear out of the carriage.

"I didn't know he was gonna rub his _damn cheek on it._" He cried, growing angry. I could feel my rage building, but swallowed it when Cobb spoke.

"That's enough." He had his fingers on Saito's neck, checking his pulse. I remembered being shot and turned on him, albeit with slightly more respect than I had with Nash.

"And you, what the hell was all that?"

"I have it under control." Cobb replied, not meeting my eyes.

My mouth gaped. "I'd hate to see out of control." That was his only defence? His projection of his dead wife swarms in to our operation, warns our mark of our plan, _shoots me in the leg_ and he has it under control? His projection of Mal was vicious, sly. In reality, she'd been nothing like that. She was such a loving woman and a kind friend, and had nothing but encouraging words to say to everyone. Cobb had twisted his views of her into something dark and a shade of what Mal had been like. He had some issues he needed to face, and once we were clear of this train, he and I were having a very long talk.

"We don't have time for this. I'm getting off at Kyoto." He ripped the IV out of Saito's arm and grabbed his bag from the overhead.

"Why? He's not gonna check every compartment." I questioned, then nearly bit through my lip as I realised what Cobb's issue was.

"Well I don't like trains. Listen, every man for himself." He threw a bundle of money at Todashi and left the compartment. I snapped the PASIV briefcase shut and followed suit, taking the opposite way to Cobb, locking myself in the bathroom. We'd already arranged our meeting place, an apartment in Tokyo that I'd rented under a false name. I didn't like the idea of remaining on the train either; although I didn't think Saito would search every compartment, there was still the possibility that I might run across him. With that in mind, I would also get off at Kyoto. I pulled out my cell phone and dialled a number I knew off by heart. In our job, it was impractical and unsafe to keep the same number for long, so I memorised any important numbers I would ever need and changed phones regularly.

"I need some transport." I chose my words carefully as the line connected. "I need to get from Kyoto station to the place we discussed, as well as a faster alternative for getting us out of the country."

There was no reply, the line disconnected, but I knew my request would be met. It wasn't safe to linger on phone lines these days. It's why most communication was done face to face: safer to fly halfway across the world than make a cell phone call. Enforcing this unwritten rule, I dropped my phone and crushed it under my heel before throwing the remains out of the window.

Having a more direct, if a little ostentatious, route to the apartment, I expected to beat Cobb and Nash there. A helicopter was, I reasoned, one of the faster ways to get around Japan. I made the most of my time alone by having a shower. The hot water washed away the majority of the stress I felt over the botched job, removing the anger that had been my predominant emotion all day. I sighed. I couldn't really blame either Nash or Cobb for what had gone wrong. As the point man, I should have doubled checked Nash's work, made sure everything was perfect before we attempted the job. And Cobb… at the end of the day, Mal was dead and he had to live with that. So a few jobs went wrong every now and again, he was clearly as disturbed about Mal's intrusion as I was. But he still needed help.

Dressing again, I slipped on a shirt, deciding against my usual suit and tie combination. We were supposed to have checked in with Cobol an hour ago, so by now they'd be circulating a price on all of our heads. That meant I'd be disappearing to the US somewhere, and I'd prefer to be comfortable on such a long flight, which rendered wearing a tie impossible. I still couldn't bear to wear jeans, so I wore black dress trousers. I hated to look anything less than immaculate.

I ran a comb through my hair, slicking it back to my usual style. As I put the comb down, I heard the door of the apartment across the hall slam. Cobb was back. I still hadn't heard anything from Nash's room though, but he could have arrived while I was in the shower. We only had an hour before the helicopter would be here. I wondered where Cobb was planning to go. I'd already planned the route I would take; I'd go through ten states before settling down in California. I had an apartment in Los Angeles that I hadn't been back to for nearly eighteen months.

I'd packed my belongings before we'd taken the train, sometimes we weren't afforded the luxury of having time to pack after a job, so I didn't have anything to do until the ride came. I had a job lined up in LA when I got back, which needed a forger. I opened my laptop. A few keystrokes and I was logged in, Less than sixty seconds later, I had the number I was searching for.

I had another cell phone which I'd left behind in the room for an emergency; it hadn't ever been switched on. A few of the more reckless dreamsharers disregarded my meticulous attitude as paranoia, but some fully understood how dangerous it could be to be tracked down. I dialled the number and it was answered within one ring, but the person at the end of the phone didn't speak.

"It's me." I said quietly, suddenly wishing I hadn't made the call.

"Darling!" Eames sounded genuinely surprised and happy to hear from me, as usual. I didn't react to the nickname, I'd heard it dozens of times before. "How did the job go?"

"Badly. We're skipping out." I admitted, happy to have someone to talk about it with. "Nash screwed up."

I sensed Eames' disapproval through the phone. He hated working with amateurs just as much as I did. And he fully recognised the danger Cobol represented.

"Listen, I can't talk long. And I can't say where I'm going, this line isn't secure enough."

Eames laughed. "Arthur, if you're calling me from it, there isn't a more secure line in the continent. Assuming we're on the same continent."

I refused to show it, but inwardly I was pleased at Eames' faith in my abilities.

"Get a new phone; I had this one traced in under a minute. I'll call you from where I end up. I might need you; can you give me some sort of hint to where you are?"

Eames stifled a chuckle, but I knew he understood the reason behind my security measures and would have a new phone within the hour.

"The first place we pulled a job together, darling. Stay safe."

I hung up and repeated my early process of crushing my phone under my heel and throwing the pieces out of the window. _Mombasa. _I smiled at the irony. The only place in the world that posed too much of a threat for me to travel to, and Eames was there. Cobol Engineering pretty much _owned _Mombasa. I briefly wondered what he was doing there, but I'd long since learnt not to bother questioning Eames' motives. He hated staying still, always hopping from place to place. When I'd worked with other teams, they'd always struggled to trace him, but I'd always managed to find him immediately. Then when I'd asked Eames about it, he'd evaded the question at first, but eventually admitted he didn't make an effort not to be found if it was me searching, because there was no risk involved. That was one of the things I both respected and hated about Eames. His trust was unwavering. He knew I would never let him down and it was a mutual respect, something I utterly despised. A con man. A thief, a forger, someone who _lied _for a living and would sell his own grandmother for the right price, had my complete trust, and I knew that whoever else he would let down, it would never be me.

I thought about the job I had lined up. It was a straightforward enough extraction, I could find out everything we needed in a couple of days. The problem was that I'd need a forger, something I'd just taken care of. There were other forgers, who were closer and quite capable of fulfilling the role, but after the way this job had turned out, I wasn't taking any chances, I wanted the best. My head bowed, recognising the lie. I wouldn't be seeing Cobb for a long time after we parted ways, it wasn't safe, and so I'd contacted Eames for familiarity. I wanted someone I could trust around.

The sound of whirring blades alerted me to the helicopter's presence, so I threw my coat on and grabbed my bags. I took one last look around the apartment to ensure I'd removed all traces of my presence, before I locked my door and went to fetch Nash and Cobb. It was time to run.

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><p><strong>Reviews would be really appreciated =)<strong>


	3. Inception

Disclaimer: **I own none of the Inception characters, that exclusive and lucky right belongs solely to Christopher Nolan.**

**Special thanks to Lazarus76 for the kind reviews :)**

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><p>I stopped off at Nash's room first, knocking briskly. No response. I knocked again, impatiently, this time a little louder.<br>"Nash, we gotta go." I called. My only response was silence. I sighed, mentally thanking Eames for educating me in some of his skills. One of the things he taught me was how to be proficient at picking locks. I peeled my wallet out of my pocket and removed my lockpick.

A few seconds later, I was standing in his room. His things were still there, unpacked. Either he'd run out on us, which was very likely, or he'd already been caught by Cobol. Regardless, it was no longer safe for us to be here. I shut his door firmly and headed to Cobb's room. I knocked briskly, and the door was opened quickly.

"Our rides on the roof." I said casually, gesturing with a nod. I took in Cobb's haggard appearance, deciding how to bring it up.

"Alright." Cobb acknowledged, heading back in to grab his bags. I walked in after him, letting the door close behind me.

"Hey, are you ok?" I asked, concerned for my friend and partner. Cobb looked at me warily.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, why?"

"Well down in the dream … Mal showing up." I reasoned. If he didn't want to talk about it, I would drop it, but if it was becoming a regular issue, it needed to be addressed.

"Oh, come on. I'm sorry about your leg, it won't happen again." Cobb stated as he threw on his jacket. I wasn't convinced by his now casual demeanour.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?" It wasn't a question. I didn't take my eyes off Cobb, scrutinising him for any signs of discomfort. I knew he wouldn't tell me if it was, but I needed him to know that I was willing to listen if he needed me. That was enough for now.

"One apology's all you're getting, alright Arthur?" He grinned at me. I let the matter drop, but I knew he was avoiding the question. Cobb knew that I wouldn't be able to question him for a while after today; by the next time we worked together he would no longer have an issue.

"Where's Nash?" He questioned. I scowled.

"Hasn't shown, you wanna wait?" I knew my tone was condescending, but I had expected him to flee after the job went so badly. My lack of surprise at Nash's non-appearance didn't instil any curiosity in Cobb, so he either didn't notice or didn't care.

"No, we were supposed to deliver Saito's expansion plans at Cobol Engineering two hours ago, by now they know we've failed. It's time we disappear." He grabbed his last bag and opened the door. I headed up towards the roof, with Cobb right behind me.

"Where you gonna go?" I questioned as we approached the helicopter. It wasn't safe for either of us to know where the other was headed, but I needed a vague answer so I knew where to look for him. It would be another eighteen months till I saw Cobb again, unless we found a way to square things with Cobol earlier. I checked my watch to see if it was possible to give it another ten minutes for Nash. It wasn't.

"Buenos Aires. I can lie low there; maybe sniff out a job when things quiet down. You?"

"Stateside." I felt bad as soon as I'd said it, knowing Cobb would give anything to be going back home. I had to give him credit; there was only the slightest hint of bitterness when he replied.

"Send my regards."

The pilot opened the door, to reveal a battered and bloody Nash. I froze, and Cobb followed suit. He was looking at us in both fear and hatred. Someone had clearly gone to work on him. A glance in the seat opposite told us who was responsible. Saito was sitting there casually. Immediate thoughts of reaching for my gun were quashed as he made no initial threat, and I was vividly aware we were outnumbered, so I waited to hear what he wanted.

"He sold you out." Saito explained. "Felt to come to me and bargain for his life. So I offer you the satisfaction."

Saito's bodyguard, whom I'd previously assumed was our pilot, held a gun out to Cobb. For a split second, I thought Cobb might take it, but then I knew he wouldn't.

"That's not the way I deal with things." He shook his head. The gun was then offered to me. My fingers twitched, but I shook my head. Saito contemplated us for a moment, before tapping on the window. One of his men opened the other door and violently seized Nash, pulling him out of the vehicle and dragging him roughly to the stairs on the other side of the roof, far away from the vehicle.

Saito gestured for us to get in, looking out of the far window, his expression bored. It was clear he wasn't bored, but was holding his cards close to his chest for the time being. I looked at Cobb, and it was evident that we didn't have the option of refusing, so I climbed in, taking the seat opposite. Cobb sat next to me, and the helicopter took off.

"What will you do with him?" Cobb asked finally. I didn't care what happened to him, the worm deserved everything he got. There was nothing lower than a traitor who will betray to save their own skin, but I was slightly curious as to Saito's motivation.

"Nothing. But I can't speak for Cobol Engineering." My head snapped over to look at Cobb, and then down at Nash. I was suddenly overcome with sympathy. He'd be dead by morning, and it wouldn't be pretty.

We travelled in silence for a few minutes. My mind was racing with the possibilities of what Saito could want. I kept coming back to the audition he'd mentioned in the dream, maybe he'd decided we'd passed after all. He didn't seem to have any inclination to show us the same treatment as he'd given Nash, but maybe he didn't like traitors any more than I did.

"What do you want from us?" Cobb spoke up, interrupting my thoughts.

"Inception."

I looked at him in disbelief. I wasn't sure how he even knew about the concept, never mind that he thought it was possible. Whoever had educated him on dreams was clearly not well informed. It couldn't be done, it went against all the physics and laws of dreamsharing.

"Is it possible? He continued.

"Of course not." I frowned, amazed someone with his intelligence even thought so.

"If you can steal an idea from someone's mind, why can't you plant one there instead?"

I felt myself getting irritated. "Ok, here's me planting an idea in your head. I say to you: don't think about elephants. What do you think about?"

Saito shrugged and cocked his head. "Elephants."

"Right, but it's not _your_ idea because you know I gave it to you. The subjects mind can always trace the genesis of the idea. True inspiration is impossible to fake."

"That's not true." Cobb spoke up. One glance at him showed me that he wouldn't meet my eye. I saw unease radiating from him. _What was he talking about?_

Saito smiled. "Can you do it?"

Cobb met his gaze full on, unflinching. "Are you offering me a choice? Because I can find my own way to square things with Cobol."

I agreed completely. Inception was dangerous, the possibility of it actually working had eluded me for years, but Cobb didn't lie. If he said it could be done, it could be done. It was obvious he'd done it before, but I knew nothing about it, which meant it was a taboo subject. I knew about every failed job, every dangerous mission, but nothing about this. All in all, it added up to the reasoning that inception just wasn't worth the risks.

"Then you do have a choice." Saito looked away again."

"Then I choose to leave, sir." Cobb was firm, but the discussion had clearly left him rattled as he was silent the rest of the journey to the hangar. Saito adopted a disinterested façade and just stared out of the window, while I was thinking about all the opportunities that inception could create if it actually _was _possible. I would never try it without serious research first, but it was an interesting concept.

The helicopter landed at a private hangar. It didn't take a genius to work out this was Saito's private jet. I scrutinised him curiously. He was obviously a man of high principles, with very good manners. Even though we'd just attempted to steal from him, and then refused a job offer, he was still going to offer us transportation halfway across the world.

"Tell the crew where you want to go." Saito said solemnly. I couldn't help but admire him, if it had been a simple extraction he'd wanted, I'd have done all I could to see it through. We got out and started walking away.

"Hey, Mr Cobb." Saito called after us, leaning forward. We stopped, and turned back.

"How would you like to go home? To America… to your children."

I stiffened at his words, rethinking my earlier impression. That was a low blow to make. Cobb would do _anything_ if he thought there was a way back to his children. Even inception. And I wasn't convinced Saito could do anything to help Cobb get back to America.

"You can't fix that. No one can." He replied. I was glaring furiously at Saito, and turned away to head towards the plane again.

"Just like inception." Saito replied shrewdly. I inwardly cursed. He seemed to know all the right buttons to press to draw Cobb in, but it wasn't working on me.

"Cobb, come on." I said, trying to show him how reckless he was being, listening to Saito. This was not something I wanted to be involved in, but I knew if Cobb agreed, I would never walk away. But it was too late, he was already ensnared.

He walked quickly back to the helicopter.

"How complex is the idea?" _Shit._

Saito raised both eyebrows in contemplation. "Simple enough." He said.

"No idea is simple when you have to plant it in somebody else's mind." Cobb argued. I fought back a grin. Even now, he knew what he was doing. He was forcing Saito to lay all his cards on the table. He wanted to know everything before he would even consider taking the job. Although I knew that if he felt he could do it, there would be no stopping him.

"My main competitor is an old man in poor health. His son will soon inherit control of the corporation. I need him to decide to break up his father's empire."

It sounded simple enough, but I was still not being hooked into this without a fight. When Cobb turned to look at me for my opinion. I shook my head slightly.

"Cobb, we should walk away from this."

"Hold on." He said, and with that, I knew he'd made up his mind. I exhaled sharply in anger, thinking longingly of my apartment in LA, one I wouldn't see for another eighteen months. A pang of regret replaced it as I thought of Eames. I wouldn't be able to work with him now. I scowled as I realised the idea of not being able to work with Eames upset me far more than it should. I would normally have shrugged it off, but this time, there was actual regret. Maybe the forger was growing on me. I had to struggle to hold back that grin. Maybe not.

"If I were to do this… if I even _could _do it… I'd need a guarantee. How do I know you can deliver? He demanded. I felt my anger dissipate as I heard him speak. James and Philippa needed their father. Who was I to stand in the way of his one chance to get back home?

"You don't." Saito said simply. "But I can. So, do you want to take a leap of faith? Or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone?"

The final taunt. Cobb nodded, staring at the floor. I looked away, but the gesture wasn't angry. Just resigned.

"Assemble your team, Mr Cobb." Saito called, sitting back. "And choose your people more wisely." He smirked.

I frowned, both at Saito's implication and the now growing worry that I was getting myself into a job I knew absolutely nothing about. I couldn't prepare for inception when I'd never done it before. I stalked towards the plane as the helicopter flew off. Cobb's posture seemed more relaxed now, now he had _hope_. Hope that he would be able to see his children again very soon. Watching my friend and partner of many years, I vowed that if Saito went back on his word, and let Cobb down, I would kill him, and would feel no regret for the action.

"You aren't obligated in any way, Arthur. I don't speak for both of us." Cobb said quietly.

"I know." Was my only reply as I climbed aboard the plane. Not being part of this job wasn't an option. We'd been friends and partners for longer than I cared to remember. When he'd fled the country, I'd gone with him. I wouldn't run out on him for this. Besides, it was an opportunity to expand my knowledge of dreamsharing. None of this was voiced aloud, but Cobb's nod showed he understood and appreciated everything I didn't say. I stowed my bags in the overhead locker and was approached by one of Saito's crew members.

"Something to eat, sir?" Saito's private stewardess asked. "We have a very nice salmon with green salad." I nodded, suddenly starving, and asked for some red wine to accompany it. I needed a drink after the disappointment of the botched job and rush of emotions I was feeling towards our next job. I settled down at a table, and heard Cobb giving the pilot instructions to fly to Paris. I'd question that later, right now I needed to at least try and talk some sense into Cobb. My food and wine was placed down on the table in front of me, and Cobb dropped into the seat opposite me.

"Look, I know how much you wanna go home. But this can't be done." I said, talking whilst chewing. I abhorred my current table manners, but I hadn't had a chance to eat for nearly twelve hours, and I didn't have the time to demand answers after I ate.

"Yes it can. You just have to go deep enough." Cobb was staring a spot on the floor behind me, refusing to meet my gaze.

"You don't know that." I argued.

He took a deep breath, and dragged his gaze up to meet mine. "I've done it before." He said. I leaned back, expression slightly surprised. I _had_ assumed so, I'd even expected it, but for Cobb to admit it, I'd thought would have taken a lot more prodding. I was silent for a second, as I thought about what to ask. Asking when he'd done it would narrow down the timescale, but from his discomfort, there was clearly something he didn't want me to know. I began to panic that he'd done it to me, and then I dismissed the thought. Then the answer came to me, and I knew what to ask.

"Who'd you do it to?" He turned to look out of the window and didn't answer, the guilt rolling off him. I shook my head in disbelief and annoyance. Mal. I stabbed at my food viciously.

"Why we going to Paris?" My irritation was increasing at Cobb refusing to treat me like his partner. I was getting some answers if it killed me. And since the last topic was clearly out of bounds for whatever reason, I started a safer line of questioning. Cobb pulled the window shade up and took a deep breath.

"We're gonna need a new architect."

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><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who's added me to their story alert, or favourite stories! Reviews, as always, are much appreciated, thank you ;)<strong>


	4. Paradox

Disclaimer: **I own none of the Inception characters, that exclusive and lucky right belongs solely to Christopher Nolan.**

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><p>When we landed in Paris, I'd already called around and booked us two hotel rooms, and found somewhere to work. Cobb disappeared to go and see Miles and get us an architect, while I headed to check out what would be my new home for the duration of the job. I tended to spend many nights in whatever warehouse we ended up at, with just my laptop for company. Everything had to be perfect or we risked our lives.<p>

I hailed a cab and was soon outside a large warehouse. I consulted the paper in my hands, on which I'd neatly written the address of the property standing in front of me. I slid open the sliding doors and nodded approvingly. This was perfect. I'd only made the call a couple of hours ago, but everything we required was here.

I took my time setting up the PASIV, including the extra wire for the new architect Cobb would be bringing back shortly. One PASIV machine could dreamshare with up to eight people, so I always carried enough equipment to ensure we could accommodate eight team members, although we very rarely used any more than three. When you had a lot of people on the team, it tended to get a little messy, trying to keep track of everyone. No, a smaller team was neater.

I settled in one of the chairs with my laptop, typing furiously until I found what I was looking for. I blinked, and read through the page again. Cobol was circulating a large reward for our whereabouts. They were offering an obscene amount of money for our capture, but failed to state whether they wanted us dead or alive. I snorted. We wouldn't be found unless we wanted to be. And anyone who did know where we were wouldn't drop us in it. Even Saito had the incentive to keep our whereabouts safe. Even if it was because we couldn't complete the job for him if he sold us out.

Saito did have a ruthless streak, I'd seen Nash's injuries with my own eyes, and while he might not have inflicted them personally, he had ordered it. I didn't intend to end up with the same treatment.

I glanced at my watch. It had been twelve hours since we'd left Tokyo. By now Nash would be dead. I wondered if the news had been leaked yet. A few moments later, I found that he'd been pulled out of the Vltava, a river in Prague. Nowhere near Japan. I'd expected nothing less from Cobol, but it still made me uneasy. I shut the laptop lid and ran my hands through my hair.

The sound of footsteps approaching the warehouse door broke through my thoughts and my hand snapped to the Glock at my waist. _Two sets of footsteps. One male, one female._ I calculated, pointing the weapon at the warehouse door. Cobb slid it open easily and slipped inside, leading a young woman behind him. The woman froze and blanched at the gun I was currently pointing at her. _She's too young. Too inexperienced for this sort of job_, were my initial thoughts.

"Jesus, Arthur, put the gun away." Cobb said, exasperated.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." I slid the gun back into place. The woman smiled, the ice broken.

"I'm Arthur." I said smoothly, coming over to shake her hand. "I run point." At her blank look, I patiently explained.

"I figure out how all the nuts and bolts work, so he can do his thing." I gestured to Cobb, smiling kindly. "And you still haven't told me your name."

"Ariadne." She spoke quietly, but confidently. I smiled, and gestured for her to take a seat.

"Shall we get started?" At her nod, I slipped the needle into her arm gently, and Cobb took his place on the other lawn chair, pushing his own needle in.

"Five minutes?" I queried. He nodded. "She as good as you were?"

"Better." He smiled approvingly, and I pressed the button putting him under.

While I was waiting for them to wake up, I studied Ariadne. She was really very pretty, as looks go. Very young and totally inexperienced in terms of dreamsharing. But if Cobb thought she was good enough, I would take his word for it. The musical countdown triggered, and the sound of Edith Piaf filled the warehouse. I sighed. After a while, that song started to annoy the hell out of me. Cobb sat up, and I prepared for Ariadne's confusion when she awoke.

"Because it's never just a dream, is it?" Cobb spoke, obviously continuing a previous conversation. "And a face full of glass hurts like hell, when you're in it, it feels real."

"It's why the military developed dreamsharing. It was a training program for soldiers to shoot and stab and strangle each other, and then wake up." I brushed away the horror of my military career. I would never regret it; the military was responsible for my initial introduction to dreamsharing. It was well worth the eight years of violence.

"How did architects get involved?" Ariadne asked, struggling to adjust back to reality.

"Well someone had to design the dreams, right?" Cobb answered lightly, before turning back to me. "Why don't you give us another five minutes?"

I reprogrammed the machine to do as he said, waiting for Ariadne to object. She didn't disappoint.

"Five minutes?" She floundered. "We were talking for like… at least an hour!"

Cobb lay back, readjusting his needle. "In a dream your mind functions more quickly, therefore, time seems to feel more slow."

"Five minutes in the real world gives you an hour in the dream." I clarified. The poor girl looked totally lost, and Cobb was giving her the bare minimum of details.

"Why don't you see what you can get up to in five minutes?" It was meant to sound encouraging, but I recognised the challenge in Cobb's tone. Ariadne nodded, uncertainly, and I pressed the infusion trigger to activate both IV lines and put them under.

Before even thirty seconds had passed, Ariadne awoke, her body convulsing. _Shit._ I moved over to her quickly, kneeling by her side. I couldn't shake the protective feeling I had towards her, knowing how difficult the transition into dreams could be, especially at such a young age.  
>"Hey." She ignored me. "Hey. <em>Hey! <em>Look at me. You're ok. You're ok." I reassured her. _What the hell happened?_ She eventually met my gaze. "Hey."

"Why wouldn't I wake up?" She panted, clearly struggling to get her fear back under control.

"Because there was still some time on the clock and you can't wake up from within a dream unless you die." As Ariadne eventually started to control her breathing, I slipped the PASIV from her hand.

"She'll need a totem." Cobb said from behind me, sweating, and walking towards the bathroom.  
>"What!" Ariadne shrieked after him. I started to explain.<p>

"A totem, it's a small personal…" She cut me off, still shouting at Cobb's retreating back.

"That's some subconscious you've got on you, Cobb. She's a real charmer." _Ah. _That explained everything.

"Ah, I see you've met Mrs Cobb."

"She's his _wife?_" Ariadne said in disbelief.

"Yeah. So, a totem. You need a small object, potentially heavy, something that you can have on you all the time, that no one else knows." I explained, thinking of my own totem.

"Like a coin?" She suggested dazedly. She still hadn't regained her bearings totally. I kept talking, hoping it would placate her.

"No, needs to be more unique than that." I pulled my own totem from my pocket. "Like…this is a loaded die." She reached to take it and I snatched it out of her reach.

"Uh, I can't let you touch it; that would defeat the purpose. See, only I know the exact balance and the weight of this particular loaded die. That way, when you look at your totem, you know beyond a doubt that you're not in someone else's dream."

Ariadne just looked at me in disbelief.

"I… I don't know if you can't see what's going on, or you just don't want to? But Cobb has some serious problem that he's tried to bury down there. And I'm not just about to … _open my mind_ to someone like that." She grabbed her jacket and stormed out.

I couldn't conceal my smirk as she walked away. She would be good for Cobb; she wouldn't stand for any nonsense and could keep him grounded. I suspected he would open up to her if she came back. I started winding the tubes up to pack away the PASIV.

"She'll be back." Cobb said, as he came out of the bathroom. "I've never seen anyone pick it up that quickly before. Reality's not gonna be enough for her now, and when she comes back … you're gonna have her building mazes."

I paused. "Where are you gonna be?" Cobb looked past me, and I could tell from the way he was avoiding my gaze, I wasn't going to like this answer.

"I gotta go visit Eames." I kept the calm exterior, my face expressionless, except for mild interest and concern. I had told Eames all about Cobb's issue with Mal, if he dropped me in it there would be trouble. Perhaps I could talk Cobb out of it.

"Eames? No, he's in Mombasa. That's Cobol's back yard." I bit my tongue, realising my mistake. I shouldn't know where he was. Luckily, Cobb didn't seem to pick up my slip.

"It's a necessary risk." Cobb said, still refusing to look at me. He had always assumed I hated Eames. It wasn't true at all. His incessant teasing, and annoying me definitely drove me to insanity and back, but I didn't hate him. But it was an easier explanation than the friendship we'd struck up. I occasionally kept in touch with him between jobs, something I didn't do with anyone else we'd worked with.

"There are plenty of good thieves." I knew that line wasn't going to work, Cobb also knew there were closer thieves we could use. If he wanted Eames specifically…

"We don't just need a thief. We need a forger."

I sighed. "Alright. I'll find out where he is. Take the next flight out, I'll call with the details." If Eames had changed his number, it would take a little longer to find him than last time. In the end, it took me four minutes. I was impressed; I could normally trace his phones in under two.

I picked up the phone I'd purchased on the way to the warehouse, and dialled the number. It rang once.

"How long did it take you darling?" Eames chuckled down the phone.

"Four minutes." I admitted. "I'm impressed."

"Your condescension, darling, is much appreciated." He drawled. "I see from the area code that you're not in America. How did you manage to talk yourself out of that one?"

I explained briefly that we had a job going on in Paris. "Cobb's on his way to see you know. You wouldn't sell him out, would you?"

Eames was silent for a moment. "Of course I would." From his tone I could tell he was offended.

"Not when you hear what he's selling. No, don't ask me." I cut him off as he began to speak. "Not over the phone. He can explain when he gets there, but I need a location."

I jotted the details down as he gave me the address of a casino in Mombasa. I grinned, wondering how many times he'd almost gambled away his totem.

"Eames, I need a favour." I was suddenly hesitant, not sure how to phrase my request.  
>"I'm listening, darling." I could almost hear his amusement through the phone. Rather than gritting my teeth, as I normally, I could feel myself grinning too.<p>

"I'd prefer you didn't mention to Cobb you'd heard from me since the last job. He doesn't know we stay in touch and it would raise a lot of awkward questions." Cobb didn't trust Eames; he worked with him, but he didn't trust him, and as my partner, it would make things a little difficult. There was silence down the phone.

"Are you still there?" I frowned.

"Embarrassed of me, darling?" His tone was light, but I knew I was treading on dangerous ground.

"Well … there's nothing to be embarrassed about, really." I frowned harder.

"No. No, you're right, Arthur." Eames tone was casual again. "Well, you have the address, so I'll be seeing you." He hung up before I could speak. _What just happened?_ Something had been off about Eames' last sentence. I ran the conversation through my head twice before I realised he hadn't called me darling. And that bothered me far more than it should.

I'd upset him. I needed to make this right, not just because it would be uncomfortable to work with him, but because I valued the friendship I had with him. I hit redial, but was left with a dial tone. He'd disconnected the number. In disgust, I stood up in one swift movement, and kicked the chair over. I'd well and truly screwed things up. Rubbed my forehead, I felt a headache coming on. I decided to start looking for a chemist as soon as I'd called Cobb.

"What happened?" He picked up on my dull tone immediately as I read out the address.  
>"We had words." I gave no further explanation, and was immediately treated to a lecture, ending with Cobb questioning my professionalism.<p>

"No." I said firmly, feeling my temper flare up. "You don't get to question my professionalism when your _dead_ _wife_ is the reason I'm sitting here with a price on my head. Go and get Eames, and we'll speak when you get back." I hung up. A few seconds later, I packed up, grabbing the PASIV and my laptop. There was no point in working; I wouldn't be productive enough to find any chemists tonight, so I went back to the hotel for some much needed sleep.

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><p>#<p>

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><p>The next morning, I felt better, and more inclined to work. Heading back to the warehouse, I flipped open the PASIV and unscrewed the vials attached. They stored the Somnacin. And needed checked before and after every use of the machine to make sure the device was correctly regulating the amount of Somnacin distributed per IV line. Any mistakes on that ground could cause someone to overdose, and I checked it regularly. Everything seemed to be in order, so I replaced them and began screwing them back in place.<p>

A cough from behind my interrupted my work. I smiled to myself, realising Cobb was right and then smoothed my face out as I turned around. Manners dictated that I stand, so I rose and took a couple of step towards Ariadne.

"Cobb said you'd be back." I raised an eyebrow.

"I tried not to come." She admitted. "But…"

"There's nothing quite like it." I finished, understanding completely and smiling.

"It's just … pure creation." I took her return to mean she was sticking around, and was prepared to take the job, so it was up to me to teach her everything she needed to know to be able to create each level proficiently.

"Shall we take a look at some paradoxical architecture?" I suggested. Paradoxes were my favourite part of dream architecture; they came in handy almost all the time. I would enjoy teaching them to someone else. At her agreement, I plugged us in to the PASIV, taking time to assure her that it would be my dream, but her subconscious. The best place to start was a staircase, so that's where I chose for the setting.

"You're going to have to master a few tricks if you're going to build three complete dream levels." I made sure to nudge into a woman carrying papers, so Ariadne would notice the paradox when we looped back round. "Excuse me." I apologised, stepping round her.

"What kind of tricks?" Ariadne sounded confused.

"In a dream you can cheat architecture into impossible shapes. That lets you create closed loops, like the Penrose steps. The infinite staircase." I clarified, grinning when Ariadne realised what I'd dreamt. "See?"

I gestured down, showing her the drop. "Paradox. So a closed loop like that will let you disguise the boundaries of the dream you create."

Ariadne seemed to be following. "Ok, but how big do these levels have to be?"

"They could be anything from the floor of a building to an entire city. But they have to be complicated enough that we can hide from the projections."

"A maze." She grasped it quickly. I was slightly impressed; Ariadne was doing better than most other architects we'd worked with. Especially Nash.

"Right, a maze. And the better the maze…" I prompted.

"The longer we have before the projections catch us." She finished.

"Exactly." I grinned. She was learning well.

"My subconscious seems polite enough." She stated, suddenly. I assumed she'd been looking around at the people walking past us. They were staring at me suspiciously, but as of yet had made no threats. I decided not to warp any more of the dream; it wouldn't be helpful or productive to scare her off again, watching me get ripped apart.

I laughed. "You wait, they'll turn ugly. No one likes to feel someone else messing around in their mind."

"Cobb can't build anymore, can he?" She asked. This was treading on dangerous ground; it wasn't my place to tell her any of Cobb's secrets. But she did need to know."

"Well I don't know if he can't, but he won't. He thinks it's safer if he doesn't know the layouts." I explained, not explaining that I totally agreed with him.

"Why?" She questioned.

"He won't tell me." I admitted, feeling some of my burden relax as I told Ariadne. "But I think it's Mal."

"His ex-wife?" She assumed, looking out of the window.

"No, not his ex." I turned to face her, surprised. He hadn't even told her that Mal was dead?

"They're still together?" Ariadne turned back.

"No, sh…" I swallowed. "She's dead. What you see in there is just his projection of her."

I could almost see the guilt and sympathy spread across her face. I was struck with the urge to defend Mal, explain to Ariadne that Mal wasn't like the monster she'd met in the dream. That she was a wonderful woman who'd suffered a tragedy. I felt bitterness wash over me as I remembered the woman who shot me. She was nothing like Mal.

Ariadne swallowed. "What was she like in real life?"

"She was lovely." I stated, nodding to myself. I was quiet for a few moments as I thought about all the good times I'd shared with Mal and Dom before they'd been lost in limbo. Cobb never even explained how they'd ended up in limbo in the first place, just that they'd been experimenting with three levels. I'd need to quiz him about it so the same thing didn't happen to any of us. A glance at Ariadne reminded me of just how young she was. At least she wasn't at risk, once she'd designed the mazes; she could walk away from it all. I smiled to myself, knowing that even if I could walk away from dreamsharing, I wouldn't.

I blinked, and found myself back in the warehouse. I took the IV out and grasped my totem, just to be sure, rolling it across the table. _Six. Six. Six._ Reality.

My phone rang. I picked it up, not speaking.

"We'll be there in about ten minutes. Eames is in Sydney studying the mark, and we have a chemist called Yusuf. Saito will be with us." Cobb sounded edgy, as if he assumed I would still be upset.

"We have enough IV lines." I replied. "Did you run into any trouble?

"Nothing I couldn't handle." He laughed. "Be ready."

I nodded at Ariadne. Now things were about to get interesting.

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><p><strong>Reviews, as always, are much appreciated, thank you ;)<strong>


	5. Condescension

Disclaimer: **I own none of the Inception characters, that exclusive and lucky right belongs solely to Christopher Nolan.**

**I want to apologise for the delay on this chapter, I've been pretty snowed under recently, but I shall try and adopt a regular pattern of three or four days between updates. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it.**

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><p>The next two weeks flew by in a blur of work and sleep. Unfortunately, most of the sleep involved being hooked up to the PASIV, double and triple checking every little detail Ariadne was obsessing over. I didn't really mind; on the contrary, I welcomed the distraction from my conscience berating me over the last time I'd spoken to Eames. Unfortunately, nothing was going to distract me today. Eames had finished his work as part of the litigation team surrounding Maurice Fischer, so he would be landing shortly.<p>

"I will have a car meet Mr Eames from the airport when he lands." Saito stated, already dialling the necessary number.

"No, I'll get him." I spoke without thinking. My distaste for taxis had proven too much and I'd hired a car. Cobb spun round away from his conversation with Yusuf to stare at me and I wished I could take back the words. "I need to talk to Eames anyway."

I turned to meet Cobb's gaze unflinchingly. He nodded once, and turned back to Yusuf to continue debating the strength of the sedative needed to put us under. Saito shrugged, clearly uninterested in my motives and put his phone down. Hesitantly, Ariadne approached me.

"You know this Eames well?" She asked, curiously. I shrugged, not willing to give away too much.

"I've worked with him before. He's good at what he does." I wasn't prepared to go into personal details. Not that there was anything personal to share. Eames was … well, he was Eames. I enjoyed the conversations I had with him. He often had a useful insight into problems I was having.

Ariadne recognised the finality of my tone and shuffled back over to her mazes, but I didn't miss the curious glances she kept sending my way. I didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed, but I settled for uninterested and carried on with my work. I was in charge of finding out everything I could about Robert Fischer's relationship with his father. I'd had work like this before, but it was slightly more complicated this time. I usually could find documents for anything, whereas information on relationships could only really be gotten from media articles, like newspapers and none of which could ever be guaranteed to be one hundred per cent reliable. But if there was anything to be found, it could be pretty much guaranteed that I would find it.

I worked for another hour, before Ariadne excitedly pointed out that if I wanted to be on time, I had to leave for the airport now. I smiled, her enthusiasm once again revealing how young she was. My smile grew as I imagined her reaction upon meeting Eames. I tended to dress more smartly when Eames was around, as if I was overcompensating for his poor sartorial choices by dressing well. I wondered what hideous outfit he would be wearing when I met him.

I picked up my car keys and left, walking to where I'd parked my car. I'd been at the warehouse since early morning, determined to get a head start on the research. Skipping lunch, I'd managed to compile a folder of newspaper articles, all of which declared the relationship between Maurice and Robert Fischer was strained. Hopefully Eames would have some first-hand experience of seeing them interact, although it was unlikely, as his main purpose was to observe Peter Browning.

I drove to Charles De Gaulle airport, suddenly feeling unsure. What would I say to him? Eames hadn't answered my calls for the last two weeks. I couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. I hadn't meant it how it had come out, of course there was something there; I considered Eames a friend and in this line of work, friends were dangerous and difficult to come by. But Eames had taken much more offence than was necessary. In a normal situation, he'd have laughed it off. But to turn his phone off for two weeks, it was really unusual behaviour.

My mouth went dry as I realised he'd been avoiding me. I debated turning the car around and having Saito send someone to meet him instead. As quickly as that thought came into my head, I dismissed it, a scowl passing briefly over my face. I wasn't going to run away scared because Eames and I had a little disagreement. I would just have to attempt to reconcile. _Yes,_ I thought, _I'll start with a peace offering._

Knowing the flight from Sydney to Paris was over 21 hours if it was direct, a quick calculation, accounting for the 10 hour time difference … Eames must have flown from Sydney at 4am. I knew he didn't sleep on planes unless he was drugged, so the chances are, he was going to be ridiculously tired. So I'd start with coffee.

Eames was British, it was a given that he preferred tea over coffee. But I knew he had nothing but contempt for American tea, so I would have to settle for coffee instead. It was probably for the best anyway, he wouldn't be getting any sleep for a while. I winced as I smoothly drew the car to a halt. I was not looking forward to seeing his expression when I told him he couldn't sleep until he'd presented what he'd found out. We had to go straight back to the warehouse from here.

I headed in and waited at the arrivals lounge, checking on my phone for any flight delays. There were none, and he was due to land in a few minutes, so I settled down in a chair to wait.  
>"What do I say?" I muttered to myself, attracting attention to myself, as I ran my hands through my hair, a gestured that only ever seemed to occur when Eames was involved, as I only did it when frustrated.<p>

An announcement that Eames' plane was landing left me unable to plan what to say, so I hurried to get him a coffee. Passport control meant I should be back before he'd even gotten through. Sure enough, I had enough time to buy a coffee and adopt a casual attitude, leaning against the wall when I saw Eames comes through the airport, the ever present grin on his face.

His smiled faded for a second when he saw me, which made my stomach clench, but he soon put it back there.

"Arthur!" He called as he approached. "You look … exactly the same as ever."

I grinned, recognising the compliment and the insult rolled into one. I had expected nothing less. What I hadn't expected was the far more personal greeting I received. I was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug that smelt of tea and something uniquely Eames. I returned the gesture, rather awkwardly as I was holding a cup of coffee in one hand. Eames pulled back slightly to look at me, and I was uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze.

"You haven't been sleeping." He accused, quietly.

"No." I admitted. "I was worried you wouldn't want to see me."

Eames' smile faltered slightly, and he drew back from the embrace entirely. He opened his mouth to say something, then he spotted the coffee I was holding, with a longing look.

"Oh. Yeah. This is for you." I mumbled, slightly pleased that I'd got it right. He took it and took a large sip, shuddering. Then, he froze, a look of horror passing over his face.

"Oh, you can't be serious. I've been flying for nearly a full day!" He groaned. I grinned, pleased he'd figured it out.

"Don't complain. You can go to sleep after the meeting. The faster we get through this, the sooner you can go to bed."

I began walking towards the car, gesturing for him to follow. He did, but he was pouting, casting hurt looks at me every few seconds. Once we were in the car, I decided to broach the subject of the phone call again.

"Eames, I'm sorry for…" He cut me off.

"Forget about it Arthur, I understand." He smiled sadly, looking out of the window. I felt my heart clench and my lungs tighten at how cold he'd sounded.

"No, you don't. I didn't mean it how it came out. I do consider you a valuable friend Eames."

My response was awkward, uncomfortable. I didn't often express my emotions, but that didn't mean, contrary to popular belief, that I didn't have any. I felt the same things everybody else did. Eames knew me well enough to know I didn't admit to my feelings very often, so his head snapped round in shock.

"Why, Arthur, that was practically a declaration of love, coming from you!" He sounded amazed.

"Shut up." I snapped in reply, embarrassed. Without another word, I started the car and sped towards our destination. Eames didn't reply, he just looked out of the window. At the traffic lights, I took a moment to look at him. His jacket was slumped over his arm, revealing that he'd gotten yet another tattoo. I filed that information away for later, intending to ask him about it. He had also applied a lot of gel to his hair and I allowed a small smile to play over my lips. It suited him.

"Actions speak louder than words, you know." Eames whispered quietly from the passenger seat.

"What?" I frowned, not understanding what he was talking about.

"You're ashamed of me." It wasn't a question.

"Of course I'm not!" My head snapped to face him, not caring that I was driving. "Why would you even think that?"

"Why couldn't I tell Dom then, Arthur?"

I couldn't answer him. Cobb didn't trust Eames, but that wasn't the reason I didn't want him to know. Recently Cobb had become a little more neurotic. I assumed it was because of Mal getting stronger. But if he knew I kept in contact with Eames, I knew he wouldn't hesitate to confront me over how much I'd told him. Which, to be fair, was nothing. But I'd rather not have to deal with the impending fight between the only two people I cared about.

"Can you trust me when I say it was not about you?" I asked, knowing it wouldn't be a good enough response.

He shook his head. I swallowed, acknowledging his response sadly. We spent the rest of the journey in silence. As I pulled up outside the warehouse, I pushed my personal feelings to one side, adopting a cold indifference. I would allow nothing to interfere with a job. I saw Eames shaking his head as he did the same. A grin plastered on his face as he got out of the car, grabbing his bag and walking smoothly to the door.

"Afternoon all." He greeted "Let's get on with it, because I need _sleep._"

I smiled; I had always liked Eames' accent, but would never tell him so.

I followed him in, quickly enough to see Eames introduce himself to Ariadne. He took her hand gracefully and kissed him, muttering something I was not close enough to hear. She blushed, and stumbled backwards, flashing him a smile. I felt a pang of annoyance, and scowled.

"Shall we get started?" I said, coldly, taking a seat. Eames took some papers out of his bag, and stood, waiting till everyone was ready before recounting his notes.

"Basically, it's all just one big power struggle. Browning is trying to take down everyone that can compete with Fischer's companies, and it's not pretty for those involved. The vultures are circling." He said dramatically. I had to repress a grin. "The sicker Maurice Fischer becomes, the more powerful Peter Browning becomes. I've had ample opportunity to observe Browning, adopt his physical presence, study his mannerisms, and so on and so forth." I gritted my teeth at Eames' lax attitude. I appreciated that he was tired, but a brief outline was no good at this stage. We needed a clear cut plan.

"So now in the first layer of the dream, I can impersonate Browning and suggest concepts to Fischer's conscious mind. Then when we take him a level deeper, his own projection of Browning should, _should_ feed that right back to him."

I was amazed. "So he gives himself the idea?" I clarified, leaning forward.

"Precisely." Eames nodded, meeting my gaze. "It's the only way it will stick, it has to seem self-generated."

_Brilliant._ "Eames… I am impressed." I leaned back as I spoke, to appear casual. He turned to look at me, a slight smile playing across his lips.

"Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated Arthur, thank you."

I picked up on the reference to the conversation we'd had about tracing his details and I smiled in return.

"Well, if that's everything gentlemen, and lady of course," he winked at Ariadne. "I'm sure no one will mind if we call it a day and I get some sleep, or I'll be of no use to anyone."

"I'll give you a ride to the hotel. I'm heading back anyway." Now we had the job to discuss, the ride over to the hotel shouldn't be as uncomfortable as the earlier drive was. I shut my laptop lid and walked over to the car. Eames said he'd follow in a few minutes, and headed over to Cobb. I waited patiently for him to finish.

"Is inception even possible?" I asked, when we were on our way.

"Yes, of course. You have no imagination, Arthur."

"I do have an imagination." I snapped. Something about Eames drove me to insanity and back, but usually I didn't mind. In the last few hours, I'd wanted to strangle him no fewer than four times. "You don't see it because my job doesn't require it."

Eames didn't respond, which left me feeling thoroughly miserable. I'd give anything to go back two weeks, I'd never have jeopardised our friendship. I hadn't realised how important Eames was to me until I'd truly hurt him. I parked at the hotel, and just sat in the car, waiting for him to leave. He didn't move.

"Arthur, did you volunteer to pick me up today?" He asked. I didn't understand his train of thought, but I nodded, explaining that I'd wanted to apologise.

"A phone call wouldn't have done it?" He teased.

"You turned your phone off." I scowled, noting that around Eames, it was becoming my permanent expression. I got out of the car, intending to walk away, but Eames followed suit. His brow furrowed and then cleared, a look of disbelief spreading across his face.

"Oh shit, Arthur, I smashed that phone as soon as we hung up. I got a new one; I thought you'd realised." I felt ridiculously foolish. Of course Eames wouldn't be so childish as to ignore me for two weeks. And it was my security measures he was implementing. I stared at the floor as he walked round the car, coming to a halt beside me.

"Look at me." He ordered. I did as he asked, silently begging for forgiveness. "You're a prize idiot sometimes, darling." Eames brushed a thumb down my cheek, a soft look in his eyes. My eyes fluttered shut and I felt my heart soar at his casual use of the endearment. My eyes opened again as Eames squeezed my shoulder and walking towards the hotel. I stared after him dumbly.

"You'll want your room key." I called after him, reaching into my pocket to produce it. It was gone. I looked up to find Eames had vanished too. I grinned widely and followed him into the hotel. He was waiting in the elevator, holding the door for me.

"You have no respect for privacy." I chastised Eames, who smirked at me infuriatingly. "I'm willing to bet you know what's in every single one of my pockets, and what's more, I bet they've been in your hands at some point tonight."

"Of course. Did you ever doubt otherwise?" He sounded affronted, and I laughed at his indignation.

The lift opened and Eames stepped out, stopping outside his door.

"Well, goodnight darling, don't dream of me too much."He grinned. "I'll see you in the morning."

I was stunned as he leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to my cheek. Regaining my senses almost immediately, I pushed him back firmly, but was unable to help the wide grin that spread across my face as I walked towards my own room.

I winked as I opened my door. "Goodnight, Mr Eames."

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><p><strong>Reviews, as always, are much appreciated, thank you ;)<strong>


	6. Confusion

Disclaimer: **I own none of the Inception characters, that exclusive and lucky right belongs solely to Christopher Nolan.**

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><p>The next morning we were back in the warehouse. I had just finished running through everything I had found out on the relationship between Maurice Fischer and his son Robert, and Cobb was about to take over. As I took my seat, he spoke up.<p>

"I will split up my father's empire." He read, gesturing to the words I had just written on the white board. "Now this is obviously an idea that Robert himself would choose to reject, which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious. Subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept."

I spoke up. "How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?" I couldn't even begin to fathom how something like that could be done. It was probably due to the fact that I was very good at keeping business and emotion separate.  
>Cobb began rolling up his sleeves. "That's what we're here to figure out, right? Now, Robert's relationship with his father is stressed to say the least." He flicked through the articles I'd managed to source and bound together in a case file for everyone to familiarise themselves with.<p>

"Well, can't we run with that?" Eames spoke up, not taking his eyes off the case file. I knew he was amused at how thorough I'd been. "We could suggest to him breaking up his father's company is a 'screw you' to the old man."

"No, because I think positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We all yearn for reconciliation, for catharsis. We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this."

"Ok, we'll try this… my father accepts that I want to create for myself and not follow in his footsteps." Eames had produced his totem and was flipping it around in his left hand as he spoke. I had turned to listen to him and scowled when I'd spotted what he was fiddling with. It was dangerous to allow people to get such a close look at your totem; it could help them figure out the trick.

My frown deepened as I thought about the lie I'd told Ariadne when I'd first introduced her to the idea of totems. I'd told her that only I knew the weight of the loaded die that was my totem. That wasn't entirely true. The die had once belonged to Eames. A job had once gone wrong; the mark had realised he was dreaming and had shot himself awake. I realised what had happened and followed suit. When I'd woken up, he had been already shot our architect, and was aiming the gun at Eames. I dived at the mark just as the gun went off, and the shot had only grazed Eames' side.

I'd had to carry him to the car to get him some medical help, but during the struggle, a die had fallen out of his pocket. I knew his totem had always been a poker chip, so I had no qualms about handling it. I'd pocketed the die, intending to return it later. It wasn't until Eames had flown back to England and I'd landed in LA when I'd emptied my jacket pocket and found it. Since then, I'd kept and used it as my totem. There was nothing that would ground me more than a memory of when one of my closest friends had almost died.

My hand brushed against the pocket that always held the die, and I imagined Eames reaction if he ever saw it. I knew he'd searched my pockets at the hotel the previous day, but even he knew better than to go for my totem. He knew where it was kept and breaking that boundary was a line even Eames wouldn't cross.

"That might work." Cobb acknowledged. I knew it was a good idea, because that was high praise, but I was still so tightly wound from the failure of the last job, and I was so annoyed with Eames for displaying his totem so brazenly, that I snapped.

"Might? We're gonna need to do a little better than might." I stared up at Cobb. We needed to have something concrete, a guaranteed plan. There would be no second chances with this job. The stakes were too high for us to fail.

"Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur." Eames spun to face me, still holding the _damn _poker chip. I fought against the urge to throttle him, and settled for a cool business-like approach.

"Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames." At his blank stare and attempt to repeat the word, I was amazed. "Specificity?"

I knew as I repeated the word slowly that my tone was filled with condescension, but I garnered no reaction from Eames aside from a slight smirk which only irritated me more.

"Inception's not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we're gonna have to work with what we find."

"Why don't you plug us in, and we'll run through the first layer. I have a good idea of how to split each level in order to get the desired result, and while we're running through it, Ariadne can run through the route with Yusuf." Eames suggested, grinning at me. I bit back a smile as I noticed that his grin was as crooked as he was.

I set up the PASIV, and plugged everyone in, hooking Eames up last. As I slipped the IV into his hand, I took a moment to really consider him, like I had when we'd first met. Back then, he'd been exactly the same, badly dressed, smooth talking. He'd strode into the warehouse like he'd owned it, grinning at everyone he could see. As soon as we'd been introduced, I knew instinctively that this was a man I could trust, yet would probably drive me insane. Whomever he had let down, or was going to let down in the future, it would never be me. It irritated the hell out of me, knowing this, but it was true.

His hair was shorter than it had been, and was gelled like it was when I'd met him at the airport. He was wearing the most god-awful shirt; no doubt he'd purchased it especially to offend my sartorial senses. It was working; I couldn't look at his shirt without wincing. My fingers brushed against his hand as I pulled back, shooting sparks through my fingertips. I stared down at my hand, dumbly, as if I expected there to be visible damage. Of course there was none. I sat down in my chair as if nothing had happened, and plugged myself in to the device, making sure everyone was ready before I hit the infusion trigger.

My eyes opened to a street, and in the horizon I could see Ariadne reconstructing and deconstructing skyscrapers. Eames took charge, to explain his plan. I found I could take him a lot more seriously when I wasn't distracted by his flamboyant dress sense. He was still wearing the shirt, but there was a jacket on top now, so it was less visible.

"On the top level, we open up his relationship with his father. Say, 'I will not follow in my father's footsteps', then the next level down we _feed _him 'I will create something for myself'. Then, by the time we hit the bottom level, we bring out the big guns."

I followed to his train of thought instantly, but it was Cobb who spoke up.

"My father doesn't want me to be him." It was brilliant. I'd had a few discussions with both Eames and Cobb about inception, and this was entirely possible, even _likely,_ to work.

"Exactly." Eames nodded. He began to explain exactly how he was going to use his ability to forge Peter Browning in order to get the desired result. I was impressed, and approved whole-heartedly of the decision to bring Eames in. We wouldn't have gotten this far without him.

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><p>I blinked, and we were back in the warehouse. There were a few things we still needed to clarify, so I spoke up.<p>

"Three layers down, the dreams are gonna collapse with the slightest disturbance." I reasoned during a conversation with Yusuf, wondering what he had in mind to prevent it.

"Sedation." He grinned. "For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming, we'll have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we'll be using to share the dream creates a very clear connection between dreamers while actually accelerating brain function."

"In other words, it gives us more time on each level." Cobb clarified, presumably for Ariadne's benefit.

"Brain function in the dream will be about twenty times normal. And when you enter a dream within that dream, the effect is compounded." Yusuf's face was serious as he spoke. I did a quick calculation and made sure my face concealed the unease I was feeling.

"There's three dreams, that's ten hours…"

"I'm sorry; uh, maths was never my strong subject, how much time was that?" Eames sat up quickly and I knew he'd worked out exactly how much time it was, he just wanted clarification.

Cobb sighed. "It's a week at the first level down, six months the second level down and the third level…"

"…is ten years." Ariadne finished, reeling with the revelation. "Who would wanna be stuck in a dream for ten years?"

I was glad she knew what we were facing. If everything didn't go plan, we could be stuck down there for _ten years._ At the same time, I felt utter relief that Ariadne was not coming with us. She was too young, too inexperienced for a job like this. She didn't need to be dragged in to dreamsharing any more than she had been.

"Depends on the dream." Yusuf made a feeble attempt at a joke, but it failed. Everyone recognised the seriousness of the situation. My mind was racing. I knew Cobb didn't intend to make us live out the duration of the dream, so what did he plan? I refused to be shot at again. I swung back on my chair, carefree.

"So once we've made the plant, how do we get out? I'm hoping you have something more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head?" I directed my question at Cobb.

"A kick." That could work. Not a bad idea. It was just about synchronising the kick on each level. I was deep in thought about how to do it, scribbling furiously in my notebook

"What's a kick?" Ariadne asked looking confused.

"_This_, Ariadne, would be a kick." I felt a slight pressure on my chair leg and I jerked as my chair tipped further. I panicked and flung myself forward and glared at Eames, who smiled at me innocently. My mind was suddenly screaming every insult I could think of, and I knew Eames knew exactly what I was thinking. _Asshole!_ The insult was laced with affection, and I turned away from Eames, more annoyed at myself. What the hell was wrong with me? Affection? I wasn't some idiotic schoolgirl with a crush. Eames was a good friend, and I was fond of the relationship I had with him.

Cobb had a slight grin on his face, which made me uneasy. I was sure he knew exactly where my mind had just been and I didn't like it.

"It's that feeling of falling you get that jolts you awake; it snaps you out of the dream." He clicked his fingers to emphasise the _snap_.

"Are we gonna feel a kick with this kind of sedation?" I leaned forward, resisting the urge to swing back on my chair legs again. If Eames tipped me again, I would probably kill him. Slowly.

Yusuf spoke up, clearly proud of himself. "Ah, that's the clever part. I customised a sedative to leave inner ear function unimpaired. That way, however deep the sleep, the sleeper still feels falling. Or tipping."

At my sceptical gaze, Yusuf volunteered to let me test it. I agreed, and let him put me under with the sedative. A few minutes later, my eyes snapped open and I flung my arm out as my chair tipped backwards. At least they'd thought to put some cushions under me. I realised Eames was standing behind me laughing. I could only grin, knowing that he was really behind me to catch me in case I landed awkward.

"Again." I said firmly, wanting to make sure it worked every time. I was tipped sideways this time, jolting awake again as I fell. This time, I was satisfied so we returned to our original seats.

"The trick is," Cobb continued as if there had been no interruption. "To synchronise a kick that can penetrate all three levels."

"We could use the musical countdown to synchronise the different kicks." I suggested. With that last little detail decided, we had our plan.

I let Cobb and Eames work through exactly how we'd manage to carry it out; an important man like Robert Fischer would be almost impossible to catch at a time where he could be alone and unconscious for ten hours. The usual cases were surgery, dental appointments. I wanted to run through the second level one last time, so I gave Eames my laptop so he could search for a window of opportunity, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed. I never allowed anyone to use my laptop_. _There was so much confidential information on that laptop, about everyone we'd ever worked with, every mark, details on things that had been relevant to each job. Things I wouldn't let just anyone look at. I never allowed anyone near it; and if someone did get hold of it, it would be damn near impossible for anyone to use anyway. I had ensured it was locked by four different passwords that nobody would ever guess.

When I'd placed it in front of Eames, his eyes had widened considerably. I rolled my eyes, and tapped in three of the passwords quickly so that nobody would see them. The fourth, however, I deliberately typed in slowly, ensuring Eames could see every letter. Aside from letting him handle my totem, this was the most trust I could place in him. Part of me also wanted to see his reaction. As I pressed the last key, Eames slowly turned his gaze up to meet mine. It was the most intense look I'd ever received, and I drew my hand back, suddenly uncomfortable. Eames arm snapped up and his fingers enclosed round my wrist, gentle and firm.

"How did you find out?" He murmured quietly, so no one would be drawn to our conversation.

"There are always ways to trace information even when it's been erased from existence. But once I'd found it, I ensured that nobody else could." I replied, my throat hoarse. I was aware of Eames' hand shooting sparks along my skin and I shivered, almost imperceptibly. Eames' sharp eyes picked up on it, and his grey eyes darkened even further. His gaze travelled down to my lips and he leaned forward. I didn't move, unwilling to lean back, but terrified to lean forward. At the last minute, he changed course, and his lips were at my ear. My eyes fluttered shut and I felt his breath send tingles down my neck as he whispered one word in my ear.

My eyes snapped open when I registered what he had said. _Where had he found that?_ I was sure my eyes were glazed as I stared at him. We were too close; the slightest movement could brush my lips against his. My mind was racing with the pressure of making a decision, when Eames drew back. I momentarily felt the loss of his body heat, and a pang of disappointment and rejection passed through me. I straightened up and went to move away, but Eames hand was still holding my wrist. He tightened the grip and I looked back, my poker face once again in place. A second later Ariadne was beside me, asking if I was ready to run through the model with her. I had all but memorised the layout, but I still wanted to run through it again and make sure. I turned to walk away, but Eames tightened his grip on my arm again.

"He'll be with you in a moment, Ariadne." He beamed at her, in the most charming way possible. She blushed and backed away, knocking over a chair in the process.

"Eames." I began, not having a clue what I was going to say.

"Later." He interrupted. "We _will_ talk about this tonight." He released my arm, and I stepped away.

I nodded briskly, acknowledging my agreement, and headed over to Ariadne, who was still sporting a red face. I could feel Eames' eyes on me as I walked away, and I fought back the urge to turn and look back.

"So, you and Eames?" Ariadne smiled, once we had finished running over the layout one last time.

"We're friends." I frowned. I knew she hadn't seen what had transpired, so her questioning had left me confused.

"But he wants more than that." She guessed. I shrugged. It wasn't a dismissal of the topic; it was born from my frustration at not knowing what Eames wanted. What _I _wanted. I'd considered him my friend for a long time; it had been easy to accept that he mattered to me, that I valued him. Now everything had become complicated and I didn't like it at all. I could no longer put a name on our relationship. I could no longer say we were just friends because _people don't almost kiss their friends._ I couldn't deny that I felt a strong attraction towards him, but I wasn't sure I was willing to risk our friendship for the sake of desire.

I realised I'd been silent for a while, and Ariadne was staring at me, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not sure what he wants. Or what I want." I admitted. She smiled.  
>"I think you do. But you're just not ready to decide yet. You both just need to be patient and everything will fall into place."<p>

I smiled, accepting her advice, but knowing this was a decision I would have to make soon. Everything was unclear, and I detested disorganisation and confusion. All that was definite was that things were destined to change. And I would just have to wait and see whether it would be for the best.

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><p><strong>I'm keeping Arthur's password secret for now, as well as what Eames whispered in his ear. You'll find out in the next chapter or two if you haven't already guessed.<strong>

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><p><strong>Reviews, as always, are much appreciated, thank you ;)<strong>


	7. Totems

**This chapter conta****ins nothing from the film, purely written from my own imagination.**

**Hope you all like it.**

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><p>The drive back to the hotel later that evening was uncomfortable to say the least. I was tired; it had been a long day, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and not wake up until I needed to be at the warehouse. Cobb was staying overnight to test the sedative again, and Yusuf was staying to oversee. Ariadne had left earlier, as she had further to travel, and Saito had given her a ride. Which meant the only other person leaving was the one person I didn't want to see right now. I wanted to delay the inevitable conversation as long as possible.<p>

I knew Eames was staring at me, expectantly, and I was refusing to meet his gaze. It was a battle of wills, one I knew I would lose, yet still opted to partake in. Stubbornness was one of my strongest qualities, but it never worked with Eames.

"Are you going to stare at me the whole journey, or should I just kick you out now?" I snapped, eventually turning to him. He smirked, savouring his victory.

"Do I make you uncomfortable, darling?" He asked, and I could hear the laughter in his voice.

"Yes." I admitted quietly, and was secretly pleased with the hitch of breath that was his reaction to my words. "It's not because it's you. It's because it happened at all."

I took a sharp left and pulled into an almost empty car park a few streets away from the hotel. This discussion could easily turn uncomfortable for both of us, and once we got to the hotel, there would be nowhere private that was on neutral ground. Eames took a glance around, and seemed to follow my train of thought, nodding his approval.

"Can I talk first?" He asked quietly, waiting for permission. Aside from Mal's death, this was probably the most serious I'd ever seen Eames. Even when he'd almost been shot he'd been making jokes the entire time, telling me my bedside manner was atrocious and that he hoped my pillow talk was better. I blushed furiously, wondering if he'd known then how things would turn out.

Realising he was waiting for a reply, I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to speak without shaking. He ran his hands through his hair in a gesture I recognised. It was something he'd picked up from me. I bit back a smile.

"I don't really know where to start." He confessed. I swallowed, knowing I would have to give him a push.

"What is this?" I asked desperately. "I don't…" I was cut off by a finger on my lips. I inhaled sharply, almost hissing as Eames removed the contact, leaving nothing but traces of his warmth where he'd touched me.

"One question at a time, Arthur." He tried to grin, but only managed a weak smile. "I don't know what it is for you. Only you can answer that."

"What is it for you?" I asked; curious yet terrified about what his answer would reveal.

"I don't know." He admitted. "I've always found you attractive. It was part of the reason I always took a job you were involved in. I know you didn't like me at first, Arthur, but you trusted me, and that was enough. We became friends, and I knew that I would never be able to let you down and I also knew that I would never want to. Then this." He gestured between us. "I don't know when it happened; all I know is that when you called me to tell me your job had screwed up, I was terrified. I packed my things and was waiting for your return call." He cut off, biting his lip and staring out of the window, as if he'd realised what he'd just said.

"You were coming after me." I was dumbstruck by the revelation. Not even Cobb would do something so reckless, yet so devoted. The gesture left me seeing Eames in a whole new light and instinctively I knew I would do the same for him.

He nodded, clearing his throat. "I never meant to tell you that part." He grinned again, and this one was definitely weak. _I hate it. _My thoughts were vicious. _I hate that these sudden feelings can take away his smile; that they can totally overturn a friendship that was fine just the way it was._

"I had no idea what I was going to say when I got there. I just knew that I needed to see you, to understand why I suddenly felt warm when I heard your voice. But then there was the phone call."

I understood immediately, thoroughly ashamed of myself. I couldn't meet his eyes, so I settled for staring at my lap.

"I said there was nothing there to be embarrassed about." I whispered. "But I didn't realise until you hung up how I wrong I was." I explained. "Everything changed. With me, everyone always knew what to expect; organised Arthur with no feelings, just pure professionalism. Then I put my foot in my mouth and I thought I'd lost the person that matters to me most."

The atmosphere in the vehicle was too much for me to bear, so I blindly reached for my seatbelt, and scrambled out quickly, leaning against my door. I heard the other car door shut, and realised Eames had followed me out. I looked up as he came to stand in front of me.

"This, whatever it is, is new to both of us, darling." Eames said gently. "We can't be expected to know everything at once."

"But why not?" I burst out, angrily. "This is what I do, it's who I am. I always know how to behave. I don't understand why this has happened; everything was perfectly fine the way it was."

I saw Eames' eyes dull slightly, and he formed a poker face that I knew was hiding his hurt feelings. I also knew that I never wanted to see that look on his face again. He stepped back, trying to create a more socially acceptable distance between us.

"Things don't have to change, Arthur. I can't turn these feelings off, but it doesn't mean we have to act on them. It can go back to how it was before this afternoon."

I shook my head, staring him straight in the eyes as I made my decision. "It wouldn't be enough. I don't want it to be enough."

I had time to register the hope and realisation that dawned on Eames' face, before he beamed at me. It was the most dazzling smile I'd ever seen, and I could feel an expression of similar happiness spread over mine.

"It won't be easy." He warned me. I shook my head, refusing to let him scare me off.

"I hope not. Easy is boring. Besides, when do we ever do things the easy way?" I laughed. Eames stepped forward again, one hand outstretched. I reached out and took it without any hesitation, sighing happily as I felt his warmth spread through me. Everything I had said was true. Our feelings had gone beyond platonic, and there was no way we could go back to the friendship we'd had. The choice had already been made for us; it was all or nothing.

He gingerly took a step forward so that our chests were touching. I shivered at the touch and instinctively leaned forward, closing my eyes.

"We can't, we're in the middle of a job." I breathed, my eyes snapping open as I withdrew slightly. However much I wanted this, I would _not_ sacrifice my professionalism for the sake of a lust-driven kiss in a car park.

"Just let me kiss you this once, Arthur, and then we can go back to pretending this never happened, until the job's finished. I need to know this is real." He was practically begging, and I understood how much he needed this. Truth be told, I needed it too, so it didn't take much effort to nod my agreement.

Eames leaned in slowly, and anticipation filled every part of my body. Desire told me to lean in and end the prolonged suffering of waiting. Reason told me to not let our first kiss be dictated by lust. Reason won out, and I waited impatiently. Eames paused, less than an inch away from me. His eyes were searching mine, probing for hidden doubts, fears, any hints that I didn't want this. I knew he wouldn't find what he was looking for, so I waited until he was satisfied. When his eyes flickered to my lips, I exhaled, letting my warm breath wash over his face. Eames inhaled sharply and closed the gap between us. My eyes fluttered shut as I felt his lips ghost over mine, barely touching. It wasn't a kiss as such, just a promise of what he could offer. I understood all he was trying to express in that one, hesitant caress and smiled. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips firmly against his. His surprise was evident as he tensed, but almost immediately his grip on my hand relaxed and his lips softened underneath my own. Neither of us made a move to deepen the kiss, content with the minimal contact.

My free hand slid up to my jacket pocket and I pulled out my totem. I held it tightly in my hand for a moment, trying to resist the urge to confirm that this wasn't a dream. My fear won out, and I broke the kiss and pulled back, dropping Eames' hand. I felt cold at the loss of contact, but my strength resolved as I tightened the grip on the die.

"How did you know I had this?" I said absently, as I rolled the die across the roof of the car. My thoughts had gone back to the warehouse, when Eames had almost kissed me, deciding at the last minute to whisper the word 'totem' in my ear instead.

"I noticed it was gone at the time." He grinned. "At first I thought I'd just lost it in all the confusion; being shot at does tend to make you a little unaware of what's in your pockets. But then Ariadne came to me for advice on her totem yesterday, and mentioned she'd seen you with a little red die." He grinned. _Ah. _I hadn't counted on Ariadne bringing up the subject with Eames. I nodded vacantly, rolling the die again and again. _Six. Six. Six._ Reality. Each six I rolled strengthened the knowledge that this wasn't a dream, it had really happened.

"Are you going to tell me how you found out my full name?" Eames questioned. "The army wiped all my records after I signed up for the dreamsharing project. All my family are dead. I should be the only person alive who knows that Eames is my surname and not actually my first name."

"I told you, there are always ways to trace information even when it's been erased from existence." I repeated my earlier words. "I found a register which still contained your details from when you signed up for the army. As far as I could find, it was the only thing which contained your real details."

"Was?" Eames queried politely. I nodded, suddenly smirking.  
>"It no longer exists. In fact, neither did the person whose name was on that record. Deleted documents can always be traced or recalled. Simply editing a document leaves no trace. It's why your full name is one my passwords. Once I'd found what I needed, I ensured that piece of information never existed; therefore making it one of the most secure passwords possible."<p>

Eames didn't question my faith in my ability. I knew he knew what I was capable of. The conversation lapsed, and I stopped rolling my totem. My thoughts turned to the Edith Piaf song chosen for our musical countdown. We always used the same song. I'd chosen it initially, but now I hated it. Yet the words were appropriate. No regrets. It was how I'd always lived my life, refusing to dwell on the past. Those thoughts strengthened my resolve and I reached for Eames' hand. He allowed me to take it, his head tilted to one side with curiosity as I uncurled his fingers, displaying his open palm. I traced one finger across the smooth skin before I placed my totem in his outstretched hand. Instinctively, his fingers closed over the most precious object I possessed. Eames had now obtained the highest position of power that I could have afforded him. He had the ability to trick me into believing a dream was reality.

"Arthur!" He choked, both horror and awe shown in his expression. "You shouldn't…this kind of responsibility…oh, _shit!_" He swore and then his lips slammed against my own in a bruising kiss. Gone was the earlier hesitancy, this was just raw hunger, passion, _need. _I joined in the kiss with equal fervour, feeling the last two weeks of stress just melt away as his arms wound around my shoulders, crushing me to him. My arms slid round his waist, and I deepened the kiss. Eames tongue deftly slid across my bottom lip and I opened my mouth eagerly, sighing into the kiss as his tongue met my own. It was a battle for dominance; one I was losing, but was happy to concede defeat. I could feel my body responding to the desire rushing through every nerve ending in my body, and my pants were becoming uncomfortably tight. I pressed closer to him and he groaned into my mouth as he felt my hard length against his leg. I bucked against him and he groaned again, and pressed closer, allowing me to feel his own hardness. The realisation of where this was leading shot through me, and I reluctantly pulled away. We were both panting, both with desire and longing and the strain of trying to maintain control.

"We should get back." Eames said reluctantly, after we'd taken a few minutes to compose ourselves. He pressed the loaded die back into my hand. I pocketed it silently, nodding and climbed into the car. A glance in the rear view mirror showed my eyes were bright and glazed, and my cheeks were flushed. I looked a lot younger than I actually was. Eames was sporting a similar blush, and his grey eyes were darker than usual. I shivered, barely resisting the urge to kiss him again, and started the car. We drove the remaining few blocks to the hotel in silence; Eames looking out of the window while I concentrated on driving. I parked in my usual spot and eventually looked over at Eames. He smiled.

"These next few weeks are going to be unbearable." I nodded my agreement. But it would be worth it, knowing I would have Eames waiting for me at the end of it all. I reached over to open the door and paused. I knew once we stepped out of the car, we would have to maintain the illusion that the last hour had not existed, that our relationship was no different from how it had seemed previously.

"Arthur." Eames' voice stopped me. I turned back and he took my hand. I recognised the gesture and pulled away swiftly.

"Sharing totems is a big step, Mr Eames. My choice to do so wasn't dependent on reciprocation." I reverted to my cool professional demeanour for a second, before I relaxed. "You don't have to do this just because I did, Eames." I brushed my finger down his cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble against my skin.

"I'm not. I'm doing it because I want to." Came the reply, and before I could move, Eames had pressed his poker chip in my hand. I marvelled at the smoothness of it, before I was overwhelmed with the enormity of the gesture. I hadn't been prepared for the emotion that came with such unconditional trust. My fingers twitched before they closed over the feather-light chip in my hand, gingerly testing its weight.

"Thank you." It was all I could say. The words were not enough to express how touched I was by his reciprocation of trust, but they were all I could do. I handed the totem back to him, my fingertips brushing over the palm of his hand. I pulled away quickly and got out of the car, while I still had the strength to do so. Eames followed me out, and there were no traces of the earlier affection in either of our faces as we looked at each other.

"Get some sleep, Eames. We'll have another long day ahead of us tomorrow." I picked up my bag and headed in. I didn't have to look back to know he was right behind me, nor did I need a crystal ball to know he always would be.

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><p><strong>Reviews, as always, are much appreciated, thank you ;)<strong>


	8. Conflict

**Rewritten since started taking down smut.**

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><p>I awoke the next morning feeling completely refreshed. In our business, it was very rare to find those of us who could still dream. While mine were blurry, and simply a disturbance of colours that made for a distressing sleep, they were in fact, still dreams. However last night my dreams consisted of a pair of grey eyes, seeming to scare away the nightmares as I slept.<p>

My morning shower usually washed away the stress of my dreams, but today it just served to put me in a better mood. For the first time in … well, as long as I could remember, I felt relaxed, not so uptight. I knotted my tie deftly, before heading to the mirror to style my hair. The reflection that stared back at me was a mystery. I'd lost years off my face, presumably due to the boyish grin that I could not seem to shift. I mentally berated myself for acting like a fool, but it was only half-hearted.

Grabbing my laptop, I slipped into the corridor, intending to stop at the Starbucks in the hotel lobby on the way to the car. Passing Eames' room, I paused and knocked, with the intent of offering him a ride. When no response came, I shrugged, smiling. He'd probably still be asleep, it wasn't often we found him at the warehouse before 10am.

I stepped into the elevator, my mind running through the events of yesterday. I didn't regret my decision at all, in fact, how good I was feeling at that moment only reinforced that I'd made the right decision. When I'd returned to my room last night, I'd thought long and hard about the possibility of any future with Eames. We'd known each other long enough to accept that neither of us would have entered into this ... _relationship_ if we hadn't been absolutely sure that this was a long-term thing. But we lived entirely different lifestyles, and it would be difficult to accommodate us both. Eames never stayed in one place for long, which wouldn't be an issue, as my security measures didn't allow me to stay somewhere for more than a few months. But he liked the loud, busy cities where there was always some sort of trouble, whereas I liked the quieter areas, preferring solitude over company. But we would have plenty of time to discuss it after the job was finished. The chime of the lift arriving on the ground floor woke me out of my stupor and I exited swiftly. I glanced towards Starbucks and paused. Eames was leaning casually against the wall, holding two cups of coffee. He spotted me and straightened up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Good morning." I greeted quietly.

"Nothing good about it." Eames mumbled tiredly, thrusting a cup into my hand. "This godforsaken hour should not exist."

I murmured my thanks and took a sip gingerly. To my surprise, it was exactly right. I'd never told him how I took my coffee, but somehow he knew. He grinned at me as I nodded my approval.

"Why are you up so early?" I queried, gesturing for us to walk. We headed towards the car.

"Thought I'd return the favour with the coffee." He mumbled between sips. "And I wanted to catch a ride. Saito's chauffeurs give me the creeps."

"Liar." I grinned. "But I appreciate it nonetheless." A glance at my watch told me it was still early, we had a few minutes before I needed to leave, so I allowed myself a few moments of just sitting, appreciating the companionable silence. Which, admittedly, didn't last long.

"After the job, what are you planning to do?"

The question took me by surprise. I'd thought about it, of course, I'd already had plans before I'd needed to factor Eames into the equation, but I'd never for one moment thought he would worry about such things.

"I'm not sure." I said, honestly. "I considered going back to my flat in LA. But I haven't fully decided that yet. What about you?"

Eames smiled. "I'm not sure either. There's somebody rather special who I intend to tag along with, at least until he gets sick of me."

I smiled back. "I'm sure he can accommodate you, at least for now." The only response I got was a mock look of outrage, and I laughed as I started the car.

When we got to the warehouse, everyone had just arrived. To Eames' joy, we were going under. Yusuf wanted to test the sedative again and it gave Eames the perfect opportunity to get some shut-eye.

"Oh, brilliant! Sleep!" He practically bounced over to his chair and waited expectantly to be plugged in. Saito sat on a chair across from him. So far, he hadn't been any sort of liability. He didn't say much, just sat and listened to our strategy without inputting.

We all took our seats, leaving Yusuf to plug us in. The dream took us to a lobby, not dissimilar to the lobby of the hotel we were currently staying in. It was the location of the second layer, a layout I could now navigate blindfolded. Eames and Cobb stayed at the top of the stairs, and I followed Ariadne down to inspect her architecture. It met with the standards we needed. She had learned quickly, and did her job well. I heard Cobb and Eames discussing the issue of when we would be able to carry out the inception.

"He hasn't got any surgery scheduled, no dental, nothing." Eames was saying.

"Isn't he supposed to have a knee operation?" I could hear the frown in Cobb's voice.

"Nothing. Nothing they'd put him under for anyway. We need … we need at least a good ten hours." Eames sighed.

"Sydney to Los Angeles." Saito spoke up for the first time. "One of the longest flights in the world, he makes it every two weeks."

"He must be flying private then." Cobb stated, but the idea had taken hold of us both. It was the perfect opportunity.

"Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane." Saito replied. I grinned, I didn't have the ability to organise something like that without a lot of time-consuming hours on my laptop, but clearly he had connections of a higher power that could do it for us. I started heading over, mind racing with possibilities.

"It would have to be a 747." I realised, voicing my thoughts. When Cobb questioned my reasoning, I explained further, climbing the stairs towards them. "Cause in a 747 the pilot's up top, and the first class cabin is in the nose, so no-one would walk through." I came to a halt, Ariadne beside me. "But you'd have to buy out the entire cabin, _and_ the first class flight attendant…" I directed this at Saito, it was an expensive risk.

"I bought the airline." He replied, hesitantly. "It … seemed neater." His eyes flickered towards Cobb; he'd been paying much more attention than I'd thought, if he'd already had time to purchase the airline before we'd even realised that was our window of opportunity.

I held back a laugh at the look of wonder and amusement on everyone's faces.

"Looks like we have our ten hours." Cobb grinned, walking down the stairs, obviously with the intent of waking himself up. Most likely this was to do with his refusal to know the layout of the dreams. I briefly wondered if he had done anything to prevent Mal from following us into the dream. He couldn't afford to screw this up; it was his only chance to go home to James and Philippa. He wouldn't get another opportunity like this.

As an afterthought, he added, "Ariadne, terrific work by the way." Ariadne turned to smirk at me, and I smiled back at her, knowing that I shared in the compliment; I'd taught her all the tricks used to create this layout. I carried on walking up the stairs, to where Cobb had just come from, and Ariadne followed. I took extra care not to look at Eames as I passed him. Ariadne already knew too much, or at least suspected it. It wasn't that I was ashamed. I just preferred my personal life to be kept out of the working environment, and it wouldn't do to have the entire professional persona I had perfected over the years diminished. I did have a certain fondness for Ariadne, most probably due to her age. Like her, I'd been young when I'd started in dreamsharing, but with a military background I didn't share her naivety and innocence. She did, however, have a tendency to interfere, so I preferred to keep her out of the loop.

When we awoke in the warehouse, I glanced at Eames. He was looking exhausted, more so than was necessary from just an early morning. He must have had a late night. I was curious as to what had kept him up; we'd arrived back at the hotel with enough time to obtain a decent night's sleep. As if he'd felt my stare, he turned and caught my eye, grinning. I graced him with a small smile, before standing up elegantly and smoothing down my shirt, removing any creases from the position I'd been lying in.

I took a seat at a table I'd claimed as my desk, but Eames often invaded it. Flipping my laptop open, I logged in quickly, my face softening as I typed in the last password. I heard someone approaching me quietly from behind and I turned quickly, my hand snapping to the gun concealed at my waist. I grimaced when I realised it was only Eames, holding a cup.

I let my hand slip away from my gun. I was licenced to carry it, but I hadn't so far while we'd been on this job. The fear that someone we'd performed an extraction on would hunt us down left me constantly on edge. It had happened once or twice, and now I opted to shoot first, ask questions later. My defence was that my friends and colleagues would have more sense than to sneak up behind me, and anyone else who felt the need to sneak up behind me clearly had ill intentions. This same fear had saved my life more than once. I'd chosen not to carry it so far out of fear that Ariadne would find it pointed between her eyes after a harmless practical joke. She'd already had a close call. Aside from Cobb, and now Ariadne, nobody else knew of it's existence.

"It's just me, darling, no need to shoot." Eames said unnecessarily. If I hadn't already realised it was him, he would be exhibiting a bullet hole right between his eyes. I was a very good shot.

"Why were you sneaking up on me?" I snapped. "And how the _hell_ do you know about that?"

I realised my voice had carried and everyone was staring. Cobb was currently wearing an expression of the utmost disapproval and that tipped me over the edge. I scowled and flung my seat backwards, grabbing my laptop and storming out of the warehouse. I was in my car before I knew it, getting ready to drive off, when Eames tapped on the passenger window, his expression filled with regret. For a split second, I viciously debated driving away, but then I leaned over and opened the door. My anger wasn't at him.

"Get in." I said coldly, but there wasn't as much anger in my tone as I wanted. He climbed in obediently and as soon as he was seated I sped off, tyres screeching, too angry to even wait for him to secure his seatbelt. I had no idea where I was going, but I wanted to be far away from the warehouse. I wasn't even annoyed at Eames, it was the irony of Cobb disapproving over my fleeting loss of temper, when he was the reason I was in the warehouse in the first place, having _shot me in the fucking head!_ I was seething with rage, every beat of my heart spreading the fury through my body. I took a sharp left again, cutting across the traffic to pull in at the hotel. I was about to start ranting to Eames and turned to see his shirt absolutely soaking with a concoction of what looked like tea, an expression of surprise on his face as he stared at the now-empty cup in his hand. I couldn't help it. My anger just evaporated, and I snorted with amusement. He continued to stare blankly at the cup as if he couldn't comprehend what had happened. The look of confusion on his face resulted in me laughing uncontrollably, tears rolling down my face. A few seconds later, Eames started chuckling too, eventually seeing the funny side.

"Why didn't you put the cup down?" I finally managed to ask, as he eventually placed it in the cup holder. He shrugged, grinning.

"I wasn't sure I would catch you if I did."

I frowned, remembering why we were here in the first place. "Why did you sneak up on me?"

Eames looked ashamed. "I was trying to be quiet. I know how much you hate disturbance when you're working. Saito acquired some English tea and I was coming to ask if you wanted any. But I assure you that I made no effort to be silent. I thought you would have heard me."

"I did hear you, that's why I _almost shot you._" I snapped. "Do you have any idea how close I came to putting a bullet in your head?"

"Probably closer than either of us would like to admit." Eames acknowledged quietly, studying my expression. He took my silence as confirmation, and didn't respond.

"How did you know about the gun?" I asked, eventually. Eames turned his back to me and lifted his coat slightly. Tucked into the back of his trousers was a Koch P2000. I gawped at it, my eyes bulging. Eames turned back and smiled sadly at me.

"Not everyone understands how it is in this business." He spoke softly. "People like Nash and Cobb think you take security too seriously, but I've faced the barrel of a gun before, I know how easy it is for a mark to find you. It's why I never complain when you tell me to crush my phone, or when you refuse to say where you are. They're extreme measures but they're necessary. It's why I knew you carried a gun, and why I do too."

To my utter horror, I felt a lump in my throat at Eames' words. I swallowed quickly, refusing to allow emotion to overwhelm me. I'd never before found someone who understood how I felt. I often felt frustrated at people's lax attitude towards their safety. If one of us was ever caught, the safety of everyone they'd worked with became compromised.

I reached over to Eames and placed my hand on top of his own, relishing the feelings of affection and tenderness than shot through me at the contact. I'd long since accepted that while I worked in dreamsharing, relationships weren't possible. I'd assumed that I would never find anyone to want to settle down with, until now. I had no idea if it would work out, or if it would even last a significant amount of time, but I was willing to try. Eames ignited a range of emotions within me that I'd only ever dreamed about. Admittedly most of them were anger, frustration, but there was also amusement and tenderness. Happiness.

Eames placed his other hand on top of mine, and the simple gesture left butterflies in my stomach. I knew I was grinning like an idiot, but I simply didn't care. Back at the warehouse was where professional Arthur belonged. Here, with Eames, I could just be me; I could cast away the emotionless façade that I wore day after day and just concentrate on the here and now.

"Arthur, darling." Eames suddenly whined, pouting. My eyes were drawn to his full lips for a moment, before I flickered up to his eyes. "Can we go inside? I don't know if you've noticed, but my shirt is wet."

I laughed, and got out of the car.

"It wasn't hot, was it?" I frowned, suddenly worried he might have burnt himself. He shook his head and replied that it was warm, but not uncomfortably so.

When we go back to his hotel room, I bundled Eames into the shower, saying I'd get some clothes for him, as the lurid shirt he'd worn that morning proved he couldn't dress himself.

When I heard the water running, I pulled out my phone to call Ariadne, not wanting to face Cobb's impending wrath. Unfortunately, Cobb must have guessed what I would do and commandeered her phone, because he answered her phone.

"Arthur, where the hell are you?" He was almost shouting down the line. It put my back up again immediately, and I moved the phone a good few inches away from my ear to preserve my hearing.

"Back at the hotel. Eames spilt tea down himself so he's showering. What the hell is your problem?" I snapped, furious at his attitude. "I've been working close to eighteen hours a day on this job for nearly three weeks, and before that I was on the Cobol job for another four. Right now I'd be relaxing in my apartment if your _dead wife_hadn't fucked up the whole operation, but no, I have to start another job straight away. So for once I'm taking a break, and you're telling me you have a problem with that?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment before he replied, his tone oddly calm. "No. There's no problem. We'll carry on without you for today."

The line went dead. I felt a little lousy for bringing up Mal and blaming him for the failure of the Saito job, but I'd be driven to it. He had been my best friend for longer than I cared to remember, but since Mal died, it seemed like I didn't matter to him anymore. I understood he was under a lot of stress; inception was, as Eames had told me many times, '_bloody difficult_' and his whole future was riding on this, but he had to know I would never do anything to jeopardise it for him. At the moment, however, he seemed beyond reason. Perhaps taking a day away from the warehouse would do us both some good. There was nothing for me to do now until Robert Fischer's next flight in two weeks anyway.

I turned back to the wardrobe and rummaged through Eames' shirts. I found a decent-looking blue shirt and folded it neatly on the bed. Turning to leave, I knocked on the bathroom door.

"Eames." I called. "I've left you a clean shirt on the bed, I'm gonna go…" I trailed off as the door opened and Eames emerged, damp and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. I stared openly at his torso, eyes tracing every tattoo, every drop of water he'd missed while drying. I didn't meet his eyes, choosing to ignore the amusement I knew I would find there.

"See something you like, Arthur?" He purred at me. His words and tone triggered a bolt of desire straight through my body, and before I knew what was happening, I had pinned him against the wall and was kissing him thoroughly. I felt his hardness through the towel and pulled away to raise an eyebrow. Eames groaned at the loss of contact. Allowing myself a smirk, I kissed from his jaw down to his collarbone, before running my tongue over the tattoo there, tracing the ink with my tongue. He whimpered at the sensation and bucked his hips against me. I felt myself grow hard at the contact, and I moved lower, tongue running over all of the tattoos on his chest.

"Arthur." He panted. "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you said we couldn't do this."

I straightened up, pulling away. "I'm sorry." I said, regretfully. "We shouldn't really."

Eames smiled, understanding. "Don't worry about it." He yawned. "Bloody hell, I'm knackered. Come on, let's go to bed."

I stroked his cheek, gazing at him adoringly. It was times like this when I appreciated Eames more than ever. He was just so understanding. I nodded, and stripped off to my underwear, sliding into bed. Unabashedly, Eames dropped his towel, and slid into bed next to me, raising an eyebrow. I glared at him.

Eames just smiled at me affectionately, and wrapped his arms around me. I felt a little odd about the tender gesture but I appreciated the warmth and liked how his arms felt around me, so I shuffled closer and returned the embrace. We lay like that for a while, concentrating on the sound of his breathing and the regular rhythm of his heartbeat, and I came to the conclusion that the world could end right then and there, and I would have no regrets. I could die happy, because I would die knowing that I had something that nobody else did. I had Eames.

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><p><strong>Reviews, as always, are much appreciated, thank you.<strong>


	9. Normality

**Rewritten since started taking down smut.**

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><p>I lay on the bed with Eames, still embracing, appreciating the warmth his body was providing when entwined with mine. At some point in the last few hours, he'd fallen asleep. I was unable to sleep, my head racing with fears that Eames would leave me as soon as he got what he wanted. I'd been told on more than one occasion, usually by Mal, that Eames was very taken with me. And although he loved to let people down, he didn't mess with their feelings. The exchange of totems was proof of our feelings and unconditional trust.<p>

I leaned over a pressed a kiss to his forehead, gently, unable to believe how things had turned out. I wasn't an affectionate man per se, but Eames brought out a side of me that was terrified to be alone. I usually preferred my solitude, but the companionship I had with Eames was everything I wanted. I looked across at his sleeping form, his face totally relaxed. It was amazing how different people looked when they were perfectly at ease. It just proved that even carefree people like Eames still had worries.

"Your staring is making it rather difficult to sleep, darling." Eames spoke without opening his eyes. I jumped, not having realised he'd woken up. He grinned at me.

"Good morning."

"Good afternoon." I said pointedly, looking at my watch. Eames was unashamed.

"Afternoon? Oh good, that means I've had a decent amount of sleep." He yawned, stretching out. "You know, I think that a good morning kiss would still be appropriate, even if it is afternoon."

"Oh, you do, do you?" I teased, leaning over to kiss him softly.

"Good morning." I agreed, smiling, kissing him again. Eames brought his hand up to brush my hair out of my eyes.

"I'll never understand how I was lucky enough to find you." I admitted, in a rare moment of sentimentality. I constantly marvelled that Eames could have anyone he wanted, could keep up his string of meaningless affairs, yet he wanted me.

"I've always known, from the minute I saw you I knew there was never going to be anyone else for me." Eames replied, honestly. "But you didn't seem very fond of me. Yet I knew you trusted me, and I wasn't sure why. I let people down, I could betray you; I was unreliable at best, and a double-crosser at worst. But you somehow knew that I would never be able to do it to you."

The last part was phrased as a question. One I'd mulled over many times, especially since we'd started this … _relationship_, if that's what it was. I think I'd formed an adequate answer.

"I think it was because I sensed it was mutual." I said slowly. "You waltzed into the warehouse in Mombasa and I saw the most hideous shirt in existence. Then you winked at me and came over to introduce yourself before you spoke to anyone else. Admittedly, your introduction contained the most overused chat up line in history."

"How about we get to know each other better. I'm Eames." He quoted, reminiscently.

"And I said 'in your dreams, Mr Eames.', which was clearly a mistake in our line of business as you pointed out." I laughed, fondly. "But I knew even then that I trusted you. Even then it was unconditional. Giving you my totem just reinforced what was already there."

"And the fact that the totem came from me?" Eames breathed. My brow furrowed as I tried to think of a response.

"I don't know." I eventually confessed. "I just remember the gun going off, and thinking you were dead or seriously hurt, and there was so much _blood_! Even when I realised it was only a flesh wound, I was terrified. When I saw the die fall out of your pocket, I took it because I wanted something familiar, something that belonged to you, because all I could think of was that you had nearly died and there was so much I hadn't said…" I blinked. "Oh."

"You liked me even then." Eames breathed, trying and failing to conceal his joy. I nodded, slowly, still trying to grasp that myself. I hadn't realised how much Eames had meant to me even then.

"Why did you share your totem with me, darling? There are few couples in our business, even fewer of them share totems. Even Cobb didn't dare touch Mal's totem until after she died." Eames tried to sound casual, but I knew this was what he'd wanted to know the whole time. Unlike the previous question, this one I could answer, having thought about my motivation before I handed him the die.

"Because I've trusted you with my life the moment I met you. My decision was meant to show you that I trusted you with my dreams too." I explained. "Why did you give me yours?"

"Because if this doesn't work, if you leave me, if I screw it up, that's the worst thing that could happen to me, knowing that I lost the only worthwhile thing in my life. Everything else I've done has been meaningless. Nothing that anyone could ever do to my dreams would feel as bad as that."

I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his chest.

"You won't lose me." I vowed. "I can't make any guarantees for our future, but I know that as long as I'm alive, I won't want anyone else. But I concur." I added. "That's the worst thing that can happen to me too."

We didn't move for the rest of the day, except for the occasional bathroom break. We talked about anything and everything, and I found myself sharing details of my past that even Cobb didn't know. I told him about my family life, and where I grew up, even my surname, which was something that I'd never shared with anyone. In return, he told me about his childhood, when he first learnt how to become adept at stealing, and how he'd learnt to forge. Our military service was similar. I told him I'd signed up for the dreamsharing project because the idea had always fascinated me, and I enjoyed what I did. The pay check was always good, but I wouldn't risk my life for it. My motivation was that I loved dreamsharing.

Eames in turn replied he'd also encountered dreamsharing in the army, but he'd been chosen, rather than choosing it of his own accord.

"I often did impressions for some of the others; a few of us did some acting every now and again. Everyone said I was brilliant, so when dreamsharing came about, the idea of forging was thought up and I was selected to try it." He explained. "The ability came naturally, so when my service was up, I went freelance in dreamsharing."

When it came to dinner time, I excused myself, dressing hurriedly so I could go back to my room to shower and change. Under the hot water, I washed away the stickiness of the sweat. The smell of Eames that had lingered on my body from our closeness washed away, leaving me with mixed responses. I felt comfort at the familiarity of my own scent returning, but I felt regret, because Eames' natural scent was something I couldn't get enough of.

I dressed quickly, wearing my usual combination of black pants, and a smart shirt. This time I opted for purple. Slicking my hair back, I grabbed my laptop and headed back to Eames' room. I disliked it not being my possession for long periods of time.

I knocked, and he called for me to come in. As I entered, I noticed Eames had dressed too. Upon closer inspection I stopped, awestruck at what he was wearing. Grey trousers and a navy dress shirt. Not only did it match, it looked _good_.

"I can dress decently, you know." Eames said wryly, noting my surprise.

"Sure." I scoffed. "That's why you always look like you dressed in a second hand shop in the dark."

"Why, Arthur, was that a joke?" Eames exclaimed delightedly. I glared at him, but couldn't keep it up and grinned good-humouredly.

"Dinner?" I asked.

"Room service?" He queried. "It's much more informal _and_ personal."

I agreed, and went to pick up the room service menu.

"If we eat here I can feel like I'm having dinner with my boyfriend." He continued. "Going out involves table manners and too many bloody forks, and I'd feel like I'm having dinner with Arthur the point man."

I heard everything he said, but my brain had stopped functioning at the word _boyfriend_.

"Is that what we are?" I said hoarsely, my throat dry. Eames looked a little uncomfortable.

"Well, I mean, it's the technical term for it, but it does sound a little childish…" He trailed off.

"No." I disagreed quickly, staring at the menu I was holding, but not really seeing the words. "I like it. It … fits."

I looked up to see Eames beaming at me, and I smiled in response, my eyes soft, before I turned back to the menu. A few seconds later, I flipped it over to Eames who caught it deftly.

"Let me guess. Steak, rare; potatoes and a green salad, and a bottle of …" He paused as he checked the wine list. "Cabernet Sauvignon. Dessert?"

I was speechless. "No." I managed. "No dessert. How did you know what I wanted?"

Eames winked. "We've been friends for this long, and you're telling me you can't tell me what I'd order?"

I waved my hand impatiently. "Lamb cutlets with potatoes and mint. A beer; any kind. And something with chocolate for dessert. But that doesn't answer my question."

Eames didn't answer, just looked at me silently. Then I realised I knew what he ate because I paid attention to his favourite things, often mentally noting little details. He must do the same thing for me, which would explain how he knew how I took my coffee.

Eames laughed at my stupidity and picked up the phone. "I'll order. See what's on the television."

I sat down and flicked through the few channels. I hated TV at the best of times, but I particularly hated the monotony of hotel TV. Everything always seemed so boring when it was watched in a hotel room. I eventually left on some western film I'd seen dozens of times before, calculating that when the food came, I was likely to be focused on eating and holding a conversation.

I lay on Eames' bed, making myself comfortable, much to his amusement. Contrary to popular belief, I did relax on occasion. As per the hotel standard, the food was delivered quickly and was excellent. In between mouthfuls, Eames and I discussed the upcoming inception.

"We need to wait until his father dies, but there's the potential that we won't have the opportunity." I reasoned. When Eames queried the motives for my logic, I explained more thoroughly. "Well, like we said, we can't do it before; Maurice Fischer needs to die leaving his son with a strained relationship so we can work on the reconciliation. But the timing is dependent on Robert Fischer's regular flight. If he has to take over the enterprise, he might stop travelling as frequently."

Eames frowned. "That's a very good point, have you raised it with Cobb?"

"No." I admitted, frowning slightly as I remembered our earlier disagreement. "I will tomorrow morning."

"Ah, yes, you're not exactly on the best terms at the minute, are you?" Eames replied casually.

"Is there anything you don't know?" I said exasperatedly. "How did you know about that?"

Eames chuckled. "Darling, I think the whole floor knows about that, you weren't exactly quiet."

I blushed but refrained from replying; knowing anything I said would just supply Eames with further ammunition to embarrass me. Our conversation progressed to the levels of the dream, and Eames confessed his fear of leaving me behind on the second level.

"So much depends on timing, if Yusuf is too early, or you're too late. The projections could turn nasty and rip you apart. Not that I'm being sentimental or anything, darling, but ten years is a long time to be stuck in a dream without you."

My gaze softened at his words. "It should be safe enough. If there were any risks, I wouldn't be letting you leave me on the second level." I glanced at my watch as Eames yawned. "I should head back to my room, let you get some sleep." I turned the TV off and stood to leave. Eames reached for my hand.

"Stay?" He questioned. I paused, my eyes searching his face for his motivation. "Nothing like that." He shook his head. "Just to sleep."

I nodded, and we undressed and slipped into his bed. I kept my boxers on, knowing that if I undressed completely, it would most likely result in sex, and I wanted my relationship with Eames to be based on more than that.

I lay on the right side of the bed, stiffly, scared to relax and letting no part of my body touch Eames. I'd never slept next to anyone before, even in my past relationships, I'd always lay awake for hours, unable to fully relax when with someone else.

"Darling, you won't get any sleep that way, and neither will I when you're that far away. Come here and give me a kiss." Eames said sleepily. I grinned, knowing he'd be asleep in minutes, regardless of whether I stayed awake or not. "Don't make me come over there." He threatened, but the effect was diminished by his obvious tiredness. Still, I shuffled over to kiss him goodnight.

His lips pressed against mine with surprising vigour and his hand found my palm. He stroked a finger along my life line and I ran my tongue across his bottom lip. He shivered and opened his mouth, allowing me access. The kiss deepened, and grew heated as he pressed himself into me and I ran my hands down his chest. Eventually he broke away, panting.

"Goodnight, Arthur." He said huskily, both the tone and his accent sending bolts of desire straight through my body.

"Goodnight, Eames." I replied, surprised to find my voice equally as husky, a fact which did not escape Eames' notice. He groaned and pressed his lips to mine again, but didn't try and deepen the kiss.

When he pulled away, I opened my eyes and smiled tenderly at Eames. He returned the gesture crookedly, and moved closer to me. I wrapped my arms around him and he tiredly nuzzled against my neck. It was so warm, and I felt … _safe_. Like Eames would never let anything happen to me. I looked at him fondly and realised he was asleep, breathing quietly. I brushed his hair out of his eyes, gently.

"Sleep well." I breathed, and shut my eyes, content and suddenly very tired.

I was awakened a few hours later by my phone ringing. As soon as I heard the noise I sat bolt upright, reaching for the gun I'd placed on the bedside table. Turning, I saw Eames also had a gun. I was pleased with his reaction, he woke quickly and reacted fast, and even kept a gun within reach. I couldn't help but approve.

I slid the gun under my pillow and picked up the phone, answering the call.  
>"Arthur speaking." I spoke firmly, allowing no trace of sleepiness into my voice.<p>

"Maurice Fischer is dead." Saito's business-like voice gave no greeting, just went straight to business.

I jumped out of bed and grabbed my laptop, flipping it open. A few moments later, I was in Peter Browning's personal computer.

"The funeral's on Thursday, so Robert should be flying out before Tuesday. We have to move. Can you send a car?"

At his affirmative, I hung up and dressed. As presentable as I always made sure I looked, it didn't take long. I had to be dressed at a moment's notice on occasions like these.

"We need to pack, we're going to Sydney." I said, glancing over to Eames. To my surprise, he was already dressed and pulling his bag out from under his bed. He packed all his belongings, and I moved through to my room to grab my bag. I lived out of a holdall on jobs, always prepared for the eventuality of having to move quickly.

"Get Yusuf. He's in Room 548, at the end of the hall. I'll call Ariadne when we leave. Cobb should be at the warehouse and Saito will be on his way there now. When you're finished, take my car, head straight to Charles de Gaulle and return it to the rental. Wait for us there." I ordered, grabbing my laptop. I nodded at him and left, regretting immediately that I hadn't kissed him. But we no longer had time. Fischer was dead, and it was time to move.

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><p><strong>Thank you to everyone who has given me feedback so far, reviews are much appreciated. I'd love to hear your opinion on the end, whether you think Cobb and Saito should wake up or not. Much love, kind readers!<strong>


	10. Plans

**Ok, so chapter ten is now up, and they're on the job. Eventually :)**

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><p>I reached the doors of the hotel and saw Saito's car. He opened the door, and motioned for me to get in, which I did quickly. We had to pack up everything at the warehouse and fly to Sydney in order to be on the same flight as Fischer. As we sped to the warehouse, I tried to call Ariadne. Her phone was ringing but there was no response. I decided to try again later. We couldn't up and leave without at least telling her, or she'd be hurt and confused when she turned up at the warehouse the next day and it was empty.<p>

We arrived and I hopped out of the car, Saito following immediately. I opened the door quietly and spotted Cobb and Ariadne deep in a discussion and it didn't look like it was a light topic.

"It's time." Saito announced, as I hit a switch, flooding the warehouse with light. "Maurice Fischer just died in Sydney."

Cobb sat up, turning to face us. "When's the funeral?"

"Thursday, in Los Angeles." Saito replied, quoting the information I'd found earlier.

"Robert should accompany the body no later than Tuesday. We should move." I clarified.

"Alright." Cobb said, standing up to pack away the PASIV. I pulled out my notebook to check the flight details, paying very little attention to the others. However, when Ariadne spoke quietly, I was able to hear every word.

"Cobb, I'm coming with you." She said firmly.

"I promised Miles, no." Cobb refused instantly. I had known Ariadne would want to come on the job once she'd been a part of building it, but it had never been an option. It was too dangerous, she was too inexperienced. And Cobb actually had promised Miles.

"The team need someone who understands what you're struggling with." She argued. "And it doesn't have to be me, but then you have to show Arthur what I just saw."

I tensed, wondering what she'd seen that had worried her enough that I had to know about it. Ariadne had learnt quickly what was considered normal and what wasn't in dreamsharing, so it must be important. It was very likely that it was to do with Mal, but I wasn't sure what could be so threatening, aside from the possibility of her turning up and shooting me again.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Saito had also heard the conversation, and was approaching Cobb curiously. Cobb turned to face me.

"Get us another seat on the plane." He ordered, shutting the PASIV. I was hurt that Cobb didn't trust me with whatever Ariadne knew, but from her choice of words, she'd been in the dream with him. The corner of my mouth rose slightly as I considered that she'd probably put herself under when Cobb was already asleep, curious and worried. Whatever she'd seen, neither of them were going to tell me, so I was partly thankful that Ariadne would be there to ground Cobb, even with her lack of experience.

We accompanied Cobb back to the hotel so he could obtain his belongings, while I checked everyone out of our rooms. Ariadne shot off with Saito in his car to pack a few things. We would be staying overnight in Sydney at least, before Robert flew to LA with his father's body so she would need a change of clothes. When Cobb had packed and we were checked out, we took a taxi straight to the airport, and met up with Eames and Yusuf. We would take Saito's private jet as it was the only way to get a direct route from Paris to Sydney. There was the added advantage of being able to transport my gun without going through the hassle of checking it in, and producing my licence for it.

The twenty-one hour flight was horrendous, a very uncomfortable experience. I now understood how Eames had felt when he'd arrived in Paris, sympathising with his melancholy attitude to having to work straight away without sleep.

As if he knew what I was thinking, Eames looked over from the seat opposite me and grinned at me. I grinned back then returned to my laptop. I had to keep an eye out for when Fischer booked a flight, so we could make the rest of the cabin unavailable.

I opened a plan of the first class cabin on a 747 jet, and began marking off who would need to sit where. In order to slip Robert the sedative, Cobb would need to sit directly behind him. Eames would need to be at the back so he could block the cabin door and steal Fischer's passport so Cobb had an excuse to start a conversation. Because I wanted to keep an eye on both Cobb and Eames, my reasons both involving safety and sentimentality, I would sit opposite. Ariadne, Yusuf and Saito could fill up the remaining seats, provided they were within eight feet of where the PASIV would sit. Once it was all worked out, I logged into the airline booking website to ensure that first class was made unavailable for our flight the next morning. Fischer had just booked his flight and Saito had made a call as the owner of the airline that the rest of the cabin was to appear to be sold out.

When we landed in Sydney, I hailed two taxis and directed them to a hotel I'd booked around the corner. We needed to be close to the airport and ready to leave at a moment's notice, so I had booked the nearest hotel to Kingsford-Smith airport. I made sure that the room I'd booked for Ariadne was situated between mine and Eames'. Of the entire team, Eames and I were the most security conscious, and I was taking no risks with Ariadne's safety. Between the two of us, I was confident we could protect her, though it was unlikely we would have to.

"Alright, our flight is at 7am, so we have to be there closer to 3am to check in and baggage, ensuring we're there before Fischer. Make sure you get a good night's sleep. We're all going to be heavily sedated tomorrow, so you can't drink. There can be no alcohol in the bloodstream until the sedative has worn off." I turned to look pointedly at Eames, who raised his hands in mock innocence. I wasn't fooled for a moment, but carried on. "We'll meet at 2:30am and I'll knock before to ensure you're up. If you're late, I will _personally _drag you out of bed at gunpoint, Mr Eames, so that's your only warning."

"This lack of faith, Arthur, anyone would think I couldn't do my job properly." Eames pretended to be offended, but I could hear the note of humour in his tone, so I just ignored him, in accordance with keeping up my professional attitude.

"There's a lot riding on this job." I continued quietly, causing Cobb to turn to me. "I'd like it to succeed. Two-thirty, don't be late." I nodded at Cobb, and his returning smile contained both an apology and thanks. I acknowledged it with a brief smile, before gesturing for Ariadne and Eames to follow me. We were all on the same floor. Cobb, Yusuf and Saito were on the floor below. When we stopped at our individual rooms, Ariadne paused.

"Why is my room in the middle?" She frowned.

"Protection." I admitted, causing her frown to deepen. "Don't worry, not your protection." I lied through my teeth so I didn't scare her. "I'm just worried I might murder Eames in my sleep."

Eames huffed, and slammed the door behind him, leaving Ariadne giggling in the corridor. I was worried I'd actually offended him, so after dropping my bag off in my own room, I crept along to check.

I knocked quietly, and he let me in immediately, grinning.

"Miss me already?"

"Yeah." I admitted, honestly. "It was difficult seeing you sat opposite me for that whole flight, knowing that I couldn't even touch you."

Eames nodded, seriously. "It was torture. At one point I debated rubbing your thigh, but the fear of being shot deterred me."

I cocked my head to one side as I considered my potential response. "Yeah, I'd probably have put a bullet in your kneecap."

Eames grinned. "Thought so."

The conversation dwindled as we looked at each other. Now the job had officially started, there couldn't be any sort of intimacy between myself and Eames; it just wasn't the way I did things. But faced with the overwhelming desire to kiss him, I knew I needed something. I reached over and took his hand, rubbing circles over the back of it with my thumb.  
>"Arthur." Eames began, but I cut him off, letting go of his hand and watching it fall to his side.<p>

"I can't." My tone was strained. I knew he wanted me to stay with him tonight, and there wasn't even a small part of me that didn't want to, but I knew I couldn't. I also knew that if I let him get the words out, I wouldn't be able to refuse.

He nodded, understanding my difficulty, and stepping back. I knew his motivation was to make it easier for me, but seeing him so close, yet so out of my reach just made things harder.

"Goodnight, Eames." I spoke coolly, turning for the door.

"Goodnight, darling." Eames' tone was soft, the most tender I'd ever heard him sound, and without thinking, I turned back.

"After the job?" I questioned uncertainly. I needed to hear him say that he would be with me after the operation was finished. He nodded, without the slightest hesitation.

"I'll be waiting." He confirmed, and with that, I left the room, heading to bed.

At 2am, my alarm went off, waking me from my recurring dream about a pair of grey eyes watching over me. As always, it left me unsteady for a moment, but it never left me incapacitated for long. Within moments I was heading out to awaken Ariadne and Eames. I got Ariadne up first, and directed her to Cobb. Eames opened the door before I knocked, fully dressed and not looking remotely tired. His black shirt suited him more than I thought possible, and I took a moment to admire him when he wasn't looking.

"Let's get this show on the road." He chuckled, waltzing past me and into the lift. Everyone was already downstairs, Cobb standing a little way off, deep in thought. Concern flooded through me, but before I moved, Ariadne approached him, murmuring something I couldn't quite catch.

Cobb remained quiet throughout the entire duration of our wait at the airport, except a few quiet words to Saito, presumably about his imminent arrest in LA if Saito went back on his word. I thought about my gun, and that I would cheerfully put a bullet between Saito's eyes if he didn't deliver on his promise. But I knew he would, he was a man of his word.

I stood with Ariadne, watching Eames explore the duty free. My nerves were on edge, and for the second time in as many minutes considered putting a bullet between someone's eyes. Because if Eames so much as thought about buying alcohol after what I'd said about mixing it with a sedative, I would shoot him without regret. Well, I would regret it later. But right now I was seriously considering it.

But, to my astonishment, exploring was as far as he got. I saw him examine a few bottles of scotch with obvious longing, but he made no move to actually purchase any. When he'd finished, I saw him look directly at me before heading to the men's bathroom. Excusing myself from Ariadne, I pulled out my phone. With the exception of Ariadne and I, who I'd decided to keep with me for both convenience and safety, it wasn't possible for us to speak. We had to act like we didn't know each other for suspicion. Even the conversation between Cobb and Saito took place with both participants facing the window, neither looking at the other. Anyone scrutinising them wouldn't be able to see any more than polite conversation between strangers waiting for the same plane.

But Eames obviously needed to speak to me; the direct eye contact was our signal for contact, usually signifying the arrival of the mark. Even meeting in the men's room was too risky; it had to be a phone call.

I placed the call and snapped my phone to my ear, waiting for Eames to pick up. He answered quickly, confirming that he'd been waiting for my call.

"The mark's arrived." He spoke quietly and hurriedly. On alert, I straightened up, my shoulder's stiffening.

"Where?"

"He was near the doors when I came in." Eames replied, his tone was curt, but I knew it was his way of maintaining a professional attitude and that there was no malice or distaste present.

I turned under the pretence of looking for Ariadne, but my eyes were searching silently for Robert Fischer. Once I found him, I continued to turn to Ariadne, whose eye I caught. I motioned that I would be a few minutes and then turned back to my phone call.

"I see." I replied quietly. "I'll let the others know. Did you get to that chemist I mentioned?"

Eames picked up on my reference immediately. Using names was not an option on a job like this, there was always the chance that Fischer could figure out what was happening and remembering names was dangerous. I needed Eames to contact Yusuf, so I'd used his occupation to reference him. "Not yet, I can't make the signal from here." He explained.

"I can help with that." I replied smoothly.

"I'm glad it's only ten hours until I get to kiss you again." Eames suddenly said, sounding wistful, all traces of his former professionalism vanished.

I bit back a smile at his frustration. "It's at least a week." I reminded him that once the job was over, we'd still have to live out the remaining time on the first level.

"Ugh." Was his response. I chuckled, and assured him I knew how he felt before hanging up and headed back over to Ariadne. I gently took her arm and escorted her over to the window near Cobb and Saito, ensuring I met Yusuf's gaze on the way past. As he looked away, I saw him produce his phone discreetly.

"That's our plane there." I pointed out, my voice easily heard by Cobb and Saito. "See how it has a distinctive _mark_ on each wing?" I saw Cobb stiffen as he recognised my reference to Fischer's arrival. At Ariadne's assent, I turned away to check Fischer's location. "We should check out duty free."

Ariadne nodded, recognising the code. Checking my watch, I realised we would be boarding soon so we headed over to the gate, chatting about trivial things the weather and things to see in Los Angeles. A few minutes later, I saw Eames reappear. Shortly after, an announcement came for first class boarding. Ariadne went first, and I followed shortly after.

Arriving in the first class cabin, I noticed Ariadne and Saito were already seated. I slipped my hand luggage containing my laptop next to my seat, before settling down to watch Eames at work. He slid off his jacket with perfect timing, blocking Fischer's route to his seat with ease.  
>"I'm sorry." Fischer spoke impatiently. Eames moved back with faux surprise and manners.<p>

"Oh yeah, absolutely." He apologised, stepping back to allow Robert Fischer to pass. As I was expecting it, I saw his hand move quickly and expertly to brush against Fischer's pocket, but he was too agile and too practiced for me to see him actually make the lift. Slyly, Eames pressed the passport into Cobb's hand before stowing his jacket away in the overhead locker and settling down. I lay back in my seat and looked around the cabin casually, awaiting the take-off so Cobb could make his move.

I saw Eames pick up a magazine, but I could see he wasn't really interested in it, tossing it away after a few moments and looking out of the window instead. As soon as the warning to keep our seatbelts fastened was turned off, Cobb leaned forward, tapping Fischer on the arm. They were talking in a low voice, so I couldn't hear exactly what transpired, but it ended with Cobb leaning back raising a toast to Maurice Fischer. When Robert drank, I knew it would only be minutes before the sedative would take hold. It was only a mild sedative, would only last about ten minutes, which would be long enough to get the stronger compound which would be used for the job into his system.

When he looked asleep, Cobb opened the overhead locker and pulled out his jacket, purposely dropping it onto Fischer to ensure the sedative had been successful and he wouldn't awaken. Making doubly sure, I saw him shake the mark's shoulder. Satisfied, he signalled for us to move. The flight attendant drew the curtain and rushed to the locker which stored the PASIV. I opened them again to take the case from her and set it up. Everyone took a tube and I handed one to Saito. Cobb injected Fischer, and I sat down and slid the needle expertly into my wrist, having had years of practice. I saw Yusuf take a sip of his champagne and nodded, clearly nervous. I had no time to offer words of support, because at his signal, the flight attendant depressed the infusion trigger and my eyes closed, my lids suddenly too heavy to remain open. Then everything went black.

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><p><strong>Dreamland next chapter! I'm still loving all your kind reviews, thank you so much. Still awaiting more opinions on whether Cobb and Saito should wake up or not. Thank you!<strong>


	11. Outrage

**Because you're all lovely, lovely readers, I thought I'd upload another chapter tonight, which I've spent most of today working on for you. I want to use this chapter to acknowledge catrites and **XxrockyxX**, who are consistent readers and reviewers and their support has motivated me to update frequently, so this chapter is especially for you two :) thank you!**

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><p>I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the middle of a street on the first level, exactly where I planned to be. What I hadn't planned on, was the fact that it was raining heavily, and that Eames was standing next to me, closer than anticipated.<p>

"You're supposed to be over there." I frowned nodding towards where Eames was supposed to be, but I made no move to create any space between us.

"I know." Eames didn't look like he understood his change in position either, but he also didn't look particularly upset by it.

"You ready?" I murmured, spotting Cobb appearing round the corner in the maroon Sterling we had designated for this job.

"When you are, darling." Came his reply. Cobb pulled up and Eames climbed in the front. No sooner than I had climbed in, Saito appeared and got in the other side. Cobb sped off leaving no time to fasten our seatbelts. He tooted the horn twice as we pulled up next to Yusuf, and I opened the door, beckoning him in and sliding closer to Saito to make room. As the soaking wet chemist climbed in the car, clutching the PASIV, I took to teasing him over the rain.

"You couldn't have peed before you went under?" I berated, trying to withhold a smile.

"Sorry." He breathed.

"Bit too much free champagne before take-off, eh, Yusuf?" Eames teased from the front.

"Oh, ha bloody ha." Yusuf retorted, and I resisted the urge to point out that I'd expressly warned everyone not to touch alcohol, yet Yusuf had been drinking champagne on the flight. Then again, he was the chemist, he would have known if the risk was too great.

"Well, we know he'll be looking for a taxi in this weather." Cobb said, distractedly, and I smiled as I figured out his plan. He pulled away and I buckled my seatbelt, encouraging Saito to do the same. Within a few minutes Cobb had found a taxi and pulled up behind him. Flooring the accelerator, the car shot forward and rammed into the back of the taxi. Swiftly he hit the brake, screeching to a halt as his collision had the desired effect. The taxi also stopped, and the enraged driver got out of the car and stormed towards Cobb.

"Asshole! Hey man, why don't you try…" Cobb cut the man off in the middle of his rant, pointing a gun at him discreetly.

"Walk away." He ordered. I nudged Saito, who opened the door and exited the car quickly. I climbed out after, running to the driver's seat and driving off. The radio was still on, and I turned it off quickly, my distaste evident at the song that had been playing.

Cobb and Eames followed behind and sure enough, Fischer hailed the taxi as we turned the corner he was on. I pulled up and he got in.

"Alright, Third and Market, snappy."

In the rear view mirror, I saw Eames make his move, so I allowed him time to jump into the car safely before I sped off, Cobb following. We would pick up Ariadne on the way, who would no doubt be absolutely drenched by now.

"What are you doing?" Fischer snapped. I kept my eyes on the road, feeling slightly defensive about the way the mark was speaking to Eames.

"I'm sorry, I thought it was free." Eames' tone was apologetic.

"Well it's not." Robert barked. I frowned, but kept driving, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

"Maybe we could share?" Eames tried, and I could see he was smiling pleasantly at Fischer.

"Maybe not." He turned to me. "Look, can you pull over and get this…"

Luckily for Fischer, he didn't have time to finish insulting my partner as Saito turned, pointing a gun at him.

I heard Fischer sigh. "Great."

I sped towards our destination expertly, as Fischer pulled out his wallet and flung it at Eames. I gritted my teeth, disliking the mark more and more. I couldn't help but admire his bravery, he obviously wasn't scared, just frustrated at the inconvenience of being kidnapped, but his lack of respect towards Eames was clear, and I didn't like it.

"There's $500 in there; the wallet's worth more than that, so you might as well drop me at my stop."

Eames smiled condescendingly. "I'm afraid it is…"  
>He was cut off but the sound of a gunshot which hit the barrier which separated the passengers from the driver. Eames flung himself forward, and Fischer cried out in shock. I screeched to a halt as a silver Toyota pulled up in front of us, blocking the traffic, and two armed projections got out, moving towards the taxi menacingly. I turned around, scowling, in time to see another silver four-by-four and another projection complete with a gun heading for us.<p>

"Cover him!" I cried out from the front, attempting to drive around the traffic jam and escape the projections. They opened fire on the vehicle, smashing the back window. I drove forward, smashing into the car in front, forcing it to jolt forward about six feet. Fischer was forced to the vehicle floor, a coat covering his head while Eames shot at the projections from the hole that was the rear window. I alternated between reversing and accelerating forward, constantly ramming into cars, trying to create a space to escape the projections.

"How the hell did they find us so fast? They've been trained." I realised, realising I'd screwed up enormously, missing something so vital in my research. I was suddenly glad Eames and I had kept our relationship a secret. It had nothing to do with why I hadn't found out about Fischer's experience with an extractor, but I knew Cobb would automatically assume my relationship had been a distraction, even though that part of the research had been complete before Eames had arrived from Sydney. Thinking of Cobb reminded me that he was nowhere in sight and I wondered what had held him up.

The projections were closing in on the taxi, and the risk of one of us being shot was becoming too high as a bullet smashed the window near my head, so I took aim and fired two shots, each hitting their mark and taking down the projection.

Another was reloading his gun, so Eames shot at him from the rear window, but the target was out of reach. I saw Cobb speed round the corner, and clip the corner of the Toyota, which spun and took down the projection. I put the car in reverse and sped into another man, pinning him between the taxi and a stationary car. The momentary pain and surprise wore off, and he raised his gun.

"Get him!" I ordered, and Eames hopped up from the floor and shot him. I slammed on the brake, and the projection flew to the floor. My route free was now clear, so I sped out of the danger zone towards our destination.

"Are you alright?" I yelled, turning to face Eames, not caring if I'd crashed. My heart was in my mouth and I was filled with terror at the thought that he could have been shot. Even though I knew he would just wake up, I couldn't bear to see him like that again.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I'm okay. Fischer's okay, unless he gets car sick." Relief flooded through me and I turned to the man next to me. "Saito."

Saito's expression was filled with pain, and I saw his trembling fingers touch his chest and come away covered in blood. _Shit._

"He's been shot." I exclaimed, accelerating so we could get to the warehouse quickly. When we arrived, Eames got out quickly to slide the door open.

We pulled into the warehouse and Cobb dived out of his car, and stormed over to the taxi.

"Get Fischer in the back room now." He ordered, roughly pulling the mark from the vehicle and pushing him towards Yusuf. "Get him in the back room."

"What the hell happened?" Yusuf muttered as he led Fischer to the appointed room.

I opened the passenger door and hooked my hands under Saito's arms, pulling him from the vehicle. Cobb's expression filled with horror and he rushed over.

"Has he been shot? Is he dying?" He panicked. "Jesus Christ."

"I don't know." I admitted, kneeling next to him to check the wound.

"Where were you? What happened to you?" I asked. Cobb straightened up and rubbed his head in a frustrated manner.

"We were blocked by a freight train." He explained. I frowned. _What the hell?_ That hadn't been part of the design.

"Why would you put a train crossing in the middle of a downtown intersection?"

"Wha… I didn't!" Ariadne stammered.

"Then where'd it come from?" I turned to Cobb, but I already knew the answer. I wasn't prepared for his sudden loss of temper, however justified.

"Let me ask you a question, _why the hell were we ambushed_, huh? Those were not normal projections; they've been trained for God's sakes."

"You're right." I admitted my wrongdoing instantly, knowing nothing I could say would excuse that I'd missed such a vital detail. Ariadne questioned how they'd been trained, and I snapped my response. It wasn't the time for her incessant questioning.  
>"Fischer's had an extractor teach his subconscious to defend itself, so his subconscious is militarised. It should have shown in the research, I'm sorry."<p>

"Yeah, so why the hell didn't it?" Cobb's aggression was starting to rub me the wrong way, and I could feel my temper rising.

"Calm down." It was his only warning.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" He began shouting again, and I stood up, facing him square on. I wasn't taking his attitude with a pinch of salt. I'd made a mistake like any other human being, in fact, it was rare for me to make a mistake at all, and never on this scale, whereas Cobb took unnecessary risks and screwed up frequently. His reaction was unwarranted and slightly extreme.

"This was your job, goddamnit, this was your responsibility! You were meant to check Fischer's background thoroughly; we are not prepared for this type of violence."

I saw Yusuf come running back into the room at our raised voices.

"We _have _dealt with self-security before." I argued back, my own volume rising as my temper grew rapidly. "We'll be a little more careful and we're gonna be fine."

"This was not a part of the plan; he's dying for God's sakes!"

"Right, let's put him out of his misery." Eames said, gripping his gun. His tone was cold. I knew he intended to have a few sharp words with Cobb, most likely on my behalf. The thought, however, didn't comfort me at all. I clenched my fists and bristled visibly as I saw Cobb slam Eames into the taxi, preventing him from shooting Saito. I had to stop myself from swinging a punch at the man I considered my best friend as I watched him manhandle my boyfriend.

"Don't do that. _Don't_ do that." Cobb warned, and I could hear Eames try and be placating in the background.  
>"Cobb, hey, hey, hey, he's in agony, I'm waking him up!" He explained. Cobb backed away.<p>

"No, it won't wake him up."

"What do you mean it won't wake him up?" Eames began slowly.

"It won't wake up him." Cobb reiterated at the same time.

"When we die in a dream we wake up." Eames' tone was dangerous as he realised that Cobb had been keeping something secret from all of us.

"Not from this." Yusuf spoke up. Eames and Cobb turned to face him, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Eames. I realised that whatever Cobb had been hiding, Yusuf had been in on it too. "We're too heavily sedated to wake up that way." He finished.

"Right, so what happens when we die?" Eames' tone was calm and sarcastic, but I could see his gaze was filled with barely contained fury and accusations as he turned back to Cobb. I instantly knew my gaze matched Eames' as I realised what was coming, but I waited to hear it anyway.

"We drop into limbo." He admitted.

"_Are you serious_?" I demanded, feeling my temperature reach its peak. I was dangerously close to putting a bullet between his eyes and letting him rot in limbo, simply because of the danger he'd inflicted on all of us due to his own selfish desires.

"Limbo?" Ariadne gasped, confused.

"Unconstructed dream space." I clarified for her. She seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation instantly.

"Then what the hell is down there?" She asked.

"Just raw infinite subconscious. _Nothing_ is down there, except whatever might have been left behind by anyone sharing the dream who has been trapped there before." I approached Cobb, nothing but aggression in my posture and my tone. He turned away, unwilling to face me. "Which in our case, is just _you_."

"Well how long can we be stuck down there?" Ariadne queried, clearly terrified.

"We can't even think about trying to escape until the sedation has eased…" Yusuf began, but Eames cut him off.

"How _long_, Yusuf?" He demanded.

"Decades. Could be infinite, I don't know, ask him, he's the one who's been there." He nodded at Cobb.

I was furious at how careless they'd both been. Cobb should have told us the risks. My decision to be involved wouldn't have changed, no matter the danger, but I would never have let him bring Ariadne along. I had no idea whether Eames would have agreed to the job or not either, but he should have been given the choice.

"Let's just get him upstairs." I ordered, gesturing to Saito. The argument could continue up there, but right now, Saito needed medical help in order to stay alive.

Yusuf and I grabbed his arms and hauled him up, distributing his weight between us.  
>"Great." I heard Eames say to Cobb, sarcastically, as we carried Saito upstairs. "So now we're trapped in Fischer's mind, battling his own private army, and if we get killed, we'll be trapped in limbo till our brains turn to scrambled egg, hmm?"<p>

Upstairs, Yusuf and I lay Saito down on the bench.

"Yusuf, you got first aid?" I asked, but didn't wait for an answer, turning to Cobb, still furious.

"So you knew about these risks, and you didn't tell us?" It wasn't a question and I was both hurt and angry that he hadn't told _me_.

"There weren't meant to _be_ any risks, I didn't know we'd be dealing with a load of gunfire." He disputed my words, trying to justify his actions.

"You had no right." I poured everything I was feeling into that one sentence. He had no right to drag any of us here without explaining the full dangers. He had no right to keep this from me, I was his partner in this business, it was my job to know, and his job to tell me.

"This was the only way to go three layers deep." He didn't shrug, but he may as well have, because I felt his indifference to my anger. I turned away, unable to look at him without feeling disgust.

"And _you_," I turned on Yusuf, prepared to give him the same treatment. "You knew about this and went along with it."

"I trusted _him_." Yusuf reasoned, gesturing to Cobb. His words ignited nothing but disbelief within me.

"You _trusted_ him, what, after he promised you half his share?" I said condescension filling every nuance of my voice. I knew money would be the only motivation for his actions. Yusuf wasn't a man to take such a risk for the hell of it.

"No." He replied, defensively. "His whole share. Besides, he said he'd done it before."

"Oh, he'd done it before, what, with Mal? Cause that worked so good?" My volume was rising again because I knew that had resulted in Cobb spending close to half a century in limbo with Mal.

"That has nothing to do with it. I did what I had to do to get back to my children."

Before I could speak, Eames joined in.

"So you led us into a war zone with no way out."

"There is a way out." Cobb argued. "Okay, we continue on with the job and we do it as fast as possible, and we get out using the kick, just like before."

"Forget it." Eames dismissed the possibility. "We go any deeper we just raise the stakes. I am sitting this one out on this level, boys."

As if to emphasise his words, Eames walked over to a chair and sat down.  
>"Fischer's security is surrounding this place as we speak; ten hours of flight time is a week at this level. That means each and every one of us will be killed, that I can guarantee you." Cobb explained calmly. "We have no other choice but to continue on and do it as fast as possible. Downwards is the only way forwards."<p>

I saw Eames raise his eyebrows and purse his lips in an acknowledgement of Cobb's words and recognition that he was right.

"Get ready." He ordered, before turning and tossing a mask to me. I felt the rage and hatred in my stare as I glared at him.

"You, come on, let's shake him up a bit."

I followed him towards Fischer, but just as I got to the bottom of the stairs, a hand on my arm stopped me.

"Cobb, you don't mind if I just have a quick word with Arthur?"

Cobb frowned, clearly intending to argue, but Eames steered me away before he could speak.

"What is it? We're on a time frame." I asked, impatiently.

"I know; I just wanted to make sure you knew this wasn't your fault. If something like this hadn't shown up on your research then it was because there was nothing there to find. Cobb's taking it out on you because we wouldn't have caught him out if Saito hadn't been shot."

"I don't need you babying me, Eames." I snapped, suddenly feeling my rage from the past ten minutes explode out of me. "I know _exactly_ why Cobb is blaming me, and when we get out of here, I intend to shoot him in both kneecaps. I don't need you interfering whenever someone potentially upsets me. In fact, at the minute, I don't need you at all. Is that clear?"

I regretted my words the instant they came out of my mouth, but I couldn't take them back, and in my anger, I wasn't sure I wanted to. I saw a flicker of hurt pass over Eames' face, before he hid it, his eyes dulling.

"Okay, Arthur. If that's how you want it." He turned to head back upstairs.

"It is." I snapped, enraged at his casual demeanour.

"Good!" Eames retorted, viciously, turning back to me. "Because I'm sick of your work-comes-first attitude. I put up with it because it was how you are, but I'm fed up. I'm glad I took this job, Arthur, because it made me see exactly who you are and I'm not sure I like it all that much." He stormed off upstairs before I could reply, leaving me speechless and hurt. I angrily threw the mask on and stormed over to Cobb, outwardly fuming, but inwardly all I could think of was that this job was the worst thing I'd ever agreed to. Because it was now responsible for both helping me find and lose the best thing that ever happened to me.

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><p><strong>Hope you like it! Please review, it makes me update quicker :)<strong>


	12. Progression

**Next chapter up! Not much more left to go now!**

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><p>Cobb whipped the bag off Fischer's head. Standing in front of Fischer, I glared at him, angry enough that I could easily pass for a real kidnapper.<p>

"I'm ensured against kidnapping for up to ten million, this should be very simple." He sneered.

"Shut up! It won't be." Cobb snapped. I stepped forward, taking my cue.

"In your father's office; below the bookcase is his personal safe. We need the combination." I kept my voice low and dangerous, noting Fischer's resignation and frustration when we told him of the safe.

He sighed. "I don't know of any safe."

"Doesn't mean you don't know the combination." Cobb said, crouching down to Fischer's level. "Tell us what it is."

"I. Don't. Know." He said slowly, his arrogance set a bolt of anger through me. He was beginning to get on my nerves. Cobb straightened up and stormed out, presumably to retrieve Eames for the next part of our charade. My throat tightened as I thought of Eames, and I forced myself to concentrate on the job.

I loomed over Fischer. "We have it on good authority you _do_ know."

Fischer snorted. "Yeah. Who's authority?"

We both fell silent, and I waited for my queue. Sure enough, within a few moments I heard a painful cry. I didn't recognise it, but I knew it was Browning's voice. Fischer however, clearly did recognise it as his face fell.

"What's that?" He demanded, but it was obvious from his expression that he knew exactly what it was.

"Good authority." I smirked for good measure, but it was hidden behind the mask. Fischer struggled to maintain his composure as Eames/Browning yelled a few more times.

"Just … just make them stop." Robert stammered.

"The combination." I pressed. Obviously there was no safe, so there was no combination for him to know, but we needed a series of six digits that we could use for the safe in the third level, and for the hotel rooms in the second layer. The number needed to stick with him for the inception to work.

"I don't know it." He insisted.

"Then why does Browning say you do?" I countered.

"I don't know. Just… just let me talk to him and I'll find out." I had to hand it to him, he didn't fear for his own life, but he was clearly worried for his godfather's. My respect for Fischer grew, but it didn't make me dislike him any less. He was arrogant, rude, and had no respect.

Cobb burst in, roughly manhandling Eames, now forged as Browning, over to Fischer and forcing him to the floor. I couldn't make eye contact with Eames; it wasn't any easier even when he was forging the older man, because I still knew it was him underneath.

"You've got one hour. Start talking." Cobb commanded, handcuffing Eames to the pipe. We both left the room, leaving Eames to determine exactly how deep the estrangement between Maurice and Robert Fischer actually was, and how we could use it to generate the inception.

I was still too angry to be around Cobb, so I sat in the taxi, taking the mask off and flattening my hair. With Fischer's security being militarised and the risk of dropping into limbo imminent, we needed to rethink the plans for the next two levels. I was confident of Eames' ability to stay alive; he'd been in the army too, so he knew how to handle all sorts of terrains, particularly snowy areas. He could ski, skate, abseil and was particularly good at camouflage, something that showed in his ability to forge. I was confident he could take out the entirety of Fischer's projections, but there was still Ariadne to think of. The lower levels would depend on how this layer turned out.

I struggled to keep my mind on the job; rage and fear coursing through my veins. I had just found Eames; we had a good thing, even though I didn't even want to look at him at the minute. Cobb had led us into the most dangerous situation in our business. Eames could be killed, and I would be left with only the memories of one short week with him. I'd only just realised my feelings for him, and there was the chance that one or both of us may not wake up from this job.

I sighed, and rubbed my forehead, frustrated. I was never taking a job like this again. If Cobb went home to his children, he would be out of the extraction business, which meant I would have to find another partner. It was that, or go back to legal dreamsharing work, which, while still interesting, was far less so than extraction. Finding another partner would be difficult, as there was only one other person I trusted to have my back entirely, and that was important in our line of business. The problem was, it was Eames, and he preferred to pick and choose the most interesting jobs, hardly ever working in dreamsharing unless it was challenging, which it usually was if Cobb and I were on the team. I would have to consider my options carefully after this operation was complete, and if all of us made it out alive and intact.

It would be difficult working with Eames, especially if we chose not to continue our relationship after this job. I didn't think it would affect our working relationship if it continued the way things were. But working as partners instead of the occasional freelance job meant we would be in each other's presence constantly. Normally, that wouldn't be hard as we'd been friends for a long time and could stand to be around each other for long periods of time, but my feelings went beyond that now. I would never fully see Eames as just a friend again, even when my romantic feelings eventually faded, I would always have the memories. My thoughts went back to the last night we spent in Paris, and our mutual confessions to each other. 'From the minute I saw you I knew there was never going to be anyone else for me', he'd said. At the time I'd believed him without any hesitation. Now, after our fight, I was seeing slightly more clearly that if we broke up, whether it was now or in a few years, Eames would find someone else. Even if it wasn't for a long term relationship, he would return to having a constantly interchanging string of lovers. And it would tear me up to see it, though of course he would never know that.

I sighed, completely at sea. For once, I didn't have all the answers. I had always known that relationships were difficult in this business, but I knew Eames was worth the hard work. I needed to make a decision when we landed. This wasn't a decision I would or could make alone, however; Eames and I would have to discuss our options calmly and see how each of us wanted to proceed and what was for the best.

Footsteps broke my thoughts and alerted me to another presence. I looked up to see Yusuf.

"Look," He began warily. "I didn't mean to overhear…"

Ah. Brilliant. Was there anybody who didn't know about me and Eames? Ariadne had suspected from the beginning, Cobb clearly knew more than he should because of what he overheard, but I don't think he knew Eames and I were actually in a relationship, that part wasn't clear from our fight. And now Yusuf.

"What is it, Yusuf?" I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to hear what he had to say anyway.

"I already knew, Eames told me." He clarified. My head shot up, that was something I hadn't expected. I hadn't realised Eames was that close to the chemist. "But I just thought I'd let you know, he's been living with me in Mombasa for nearly six months and he's mentioned you a lot. And…" He paused, clearly thinking how to phrase his next sentence. "He's never brought anyone back. There's never been anyone else for him."

I knew I was staring at the chemist, but I couldn't believe what he was telling me.

"My point is," Yusuf stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. "That he's always known exactly what you're like, and he still wants you anyway. What he said before was his way of lashing out at what you said. It wasn't true."

I laughed, harshly. "Sounded pretty true to me."

Yusuf shook his head, stepping closer. "He was with me in Mombasa the night you told him there was nothing to be ashamed of. He went out immediately, came back smelling of whisky. He was the most drunk I've ever seen him. He passed out on the sofa, unable to even make it upstairs. Before he fell asleep, Eames told me that he was destined to be alone, because the only man he'd ever wanted was embarrassed to even be friends with him."

I stared at my shoes, guiltily. "How did you know he meant me?" I whispered, feeling lousy.

Yusuf smiled, knowingly, turning to head back upstairs. At the bottom, he paused.

"I stayed awake to check on him. He muttered your name all night."

I watched Yusuf disappear up the stairs, and was left to my thoughts. Before I could consider what Yusuf had told me, Cobb ran down the stairs, approaching Fischer's room. He gestured for me to follow him, stuffing the mask back on. I followed suit, and he flung open the door to Fischer's room, bursting in.

"Time's up." He announced.

"Alright." Now Fischer was beginning to panic, clearly believing we were about to kill him. "I don't know any combination. Not consciously, anyway."

Cobb whipped his gun out and cocked it, pointing it directly at Fischer.

"How about instinctively, huh?" He said With his other hand he pulled out the cell phone and dialled Yusuf. "We have somebody standing in your father's office right now, ready to tap in the combination."

He held the phone to Fischer's ear, still pointing the gun at his forehead. "Give me the first six numbers that come into your head, right now."

"I have no idea." Fischer sneered, disgust evident on his face.

"Right now!" Cobb yelled, pressing the gun to Fischer's forehead. Instinctively knowing that wouldn't work, he pointed the gun towards Eames, seeming to Robert that he was threatening his godfather. "I said right now! Right now!"

Seeing the weapon aimed at Eames filled me with panic. The gun could go off accidentally and kill him, leaving him trapped in limbo. Remembering where we were, I swallowed my fear and concentrated on the numbers that Fischer began saying.

"Five…two…eight…four, nine, one."

I memorised them quickly, so I could apply it to the hotel room numbers on the next layer down. Cobb took the phone away and placed it to his ear, pausing to listen.

"You'll have to do better than that. Alright, bag him." He ordered, grabbing the bag and shoving it over Eames' head, leaving me to deal with Fischer. I was grateful; Cobb had clearly overheard at least part of our argument and was tactfully giving me the opportunity to avoid Eames as much as possible. I wasn't sure if I was thankful or angry over his clear interference. I sighed, knowing I was grateful, and that my anger at him had all but dissipated. In his own words, he did what he had to do to get back to his children. James and Philippa needed their father. I would have done the same thing if I were in his position. Anyone would.

"We're going for a ride."

I forced Fischer towards the van and bundled him roughly inside. Cobb followed suit, pushing Eames in after, just until I drugged Fischer.

"I'm worth more to you alive." Fischer babbled, trying to bargain for his life. "You hear me?"

I used a pipette to sprinkle a few drops of the temporary sedative onto the bag covering Fischer's head, and he fell silent immediately. I hopped out of the van, and Eames followed, whipping the bag off to reveal his own face. I swallowed hard.

"What did you get?" Cobb pressed.

"That boy's relationship with his father is even worse than we imagined." His accent sent butterflies through my stomach and I walked away, gritting my teeth. I disliked that I felt like this around him, it was a constant distraction.

"And this helps us how?" I called, walking around the can, still looking at Eames.

"The stronger the issue, the more powerful the catharsis." Cobb reasoned, attempting to placate us both. Eames wasn't reacting to my anger, just staying calm. I grabbed the assault rifle from the van, knowing I would need to take down the projections outside so we could make our escape.

"How're you gonna reconcile them if they're so estranged?" I asked, turning to stare him right in the face. He met my gaze head on, and I moved away quickly, refusing to let my thoughts swing from the job.

"Well I'm working on that, aren't I?" Eames was clearly frustrated, but the anger racing through me meant that I was unable to care if I was being unreasonable.

"Well work faster." I ordered, cocking the rifle. "The projections are closing in quick. We gotta break out of here before we're totally boxed in."

I pulled the chain which opened the window, immediately spotting a projection on the roof. I fired two shots, but missed. He shot back and smashed a window near me. I moved back and out of range, quickly resuming my position to shoot again. When another window smashed too close to my face, I moved to the door, opening it only a fraction, enough that my vision and range wouldn't be impaired. I took down two of the projections quickly, but one kept eluding my shots, shooting back so I had to duck behind the door to reload.

"Damnit." I swore.

"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." I turned to see Eames standing next to me, his gaze turned instantly to the projection outside. I frowned at him, as I registered the endearment. Clearly there were no hard feelings on his part. I tore my eyes away and glanced down to see him holding a grenade launcher. _Huh?_ Totally stunned, I could do nothing, but turn to watch him smoothly take aim at the projection I hadn't been able to reach. He fired one shot, and the projection was blown sky-high. I turned to gawp at Eames, awestruck. He studied his work for a moment, then lowered the gun and walked away, without looking at me again. I stared after him for a second, still frowning, before I raised an eyebrow, begrudgingly impressed and opened the door for the van, quickly running back to take my seat.

Yusuf floored the accelerator and shot us out of the warehouse.

"Now we need to shift his animosity from his father to his godfather." Cobb reiterated the plan.

"You're gonna destroy his one positive relationship?" Ariadne clearly felt the idea was objectionable, but she hadn't grasped the full point. We weren't going to leave Fischer without any positive father figure's in his life, we needed to reconcile his estranged connection with his father.

"No, we repair his relationship with his father while at the same time exposing his godfather's true nature. We should charge Fischer a lot more than Saito for this job." Eames laughed.

I started setting up the PASIV. "What about his security? It's gonna get worse as we go deeper."

"Yeah, I think we run with Mr Charles." I froze.

"No." I refused, raising an eyebrow.

"Who's Mr Charles?" Eames asked from the back.

I ignored him. "Bad idea." I warned Cobb.

"The second we get into that hotel and approach Fischer, his security is gonna be all over us. We run with Mr Charles like we did on the Stein job."

"So you've done it before?" Eames realised. The Stein job had been a total failure because of the gambit, which Cobb was neglecting to inform everyone, so I did.

"Yeah, and _it didn't work_. The subject realised he was dreaming and his subconscious tore us to pieces."

"_Excellent_!" Eames said, cheerily. "But you learnt from that, right?"

"We need some kind of distraction." Cobb called from the front, plugging his seatbelt in.

"No problem," Eames said, slipping the needle into his hand. "How about a lovely lady that I've used before?"

Cobb didn't reply, leaning forward to talk to Yusuf. "Listen to me, you drive carefully alright? Everything down there's going to be unstable as hell."

"Don't jump too soon." I warned him. "We only got one shot at that kick, we gotta make it."

"I'll play the music, let you know it's coming." Yusuf called, turning to glance at me. "The rest is on you. You ready?" I lay back.

"Ready." Cobb called.

"Sweet dreams." I heard Yusuf say, before he hit the trigger and my eyes flickered shut as we went under again.

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><p><strong>Sorry people, they haven't sorted things out yet, but there is a point to the fight :)<strong>

**Not much left to go now, I'll be lost when this is finished, because I have nothing else to write. I'm thinking about doing five oneshots of this from Eames' point of view, so if there are any suggestions for what scenes you'd like to see, I'm happy to listen, from either before, during or after the movie.**


	13. Truth

**Okay, so I'm nearly done. I've had a few messages concerning which scenes you'd like to see from Eames' point of view; keep them coming, as I'll be starting them soon! I think there'll be one or two more chapters and an epilogue. Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p>My eyes snapped open and I was sitting on a seat in the hotel lobby with Ariadne. I was waiting patiently for one of the others to appear. Sure enough, within a few moments, Cobb strutted across the lobby. I nodded at Ariadne, drawing her attention to him.<p>

"There goes Mr Charles." I said, watching him disappear into the bar. Fischer must be in there.

Ariadne was quiet for a moment. "Who or what is Mr Charles?" She asked, looking around, presumably for the others. Cobb had mentioned a distraction, so Eames would be forged as someone else, presumably a woman, and a pretty one, from what he'd said in the van.

"It's a gambit designed to turn Fischer against his own subconscious." I said, my eyes fixed on the very attractive woman leaving the bar. She very pointedly kept her eyes fixed ahead of where she was walking. _Eames._ I recognised the forgery instantly, having been part of the job in which Eames had used her before.

"Then why don't you approve?" She asked, clearly confused.

"Because it involves telling the mark that he's dreaming, which involves attracting a lot of attention to us." I explained.

Ariadne smiled. "Didn't Cobb say never to do that?"

I laughed. "Mmm. So now you've noticed how much time Cobb spends doing things he says never to do."

Ariadne laughed at my words, and we fell silent once again. Conversation could only pose as a distraction to pass the time; we needed to be alert. If the gambit failed, and Fischer's subconscious began looking for me, the job would fail because I needed to give everyone the kick unnoticed by security.

A few minutes later, I could feel a slight rumbling in the foundations of the dream.

"What's that?" Ariadne panicked. I took her hand quickly. If she made a scene, it would draw too much attention to us, which was something I didn't need at the minute, so I calmed her quickly.

"Don't worry, it's just Yusuf's driving. He'll have hit an uneven stretch of road. Or the projections could be chasing him. It's normal when you have more than one layer, it's not always stable." I explained. She relaxed at my words, and I drew my hand back, smiling at her. I took a moment to really consider her. She was very pretty, smart, kind. The sort of girl a mother would want for her son. My mother would have ended up with a son-in-low, rather than a daughter-in-law, had she been alive, but she would have still been happy for me. The thought made me remember my earlier argument with Eames, and I gritted my teeth, fury resurfacing.

I tore my eyes away from Ariadne to notice the projections were starting to stare at me. Luckily, they weren't showing any signs of aggression just yet, so we were safe.

"What's happening?" Ariadne's breath hitched, and she moved ever so slightly closer to me.

"Cobb's drawing Fischer's attention to the strangeness of the dream, which is making his subconscious look for the dreamer. For me." I explained, clenching my fists. I looked at her again, and decided to do something reckless. "Quick, give me a kiss." I leaned forward before she could refuse and gently pressed my lips to hers. I was instantly hit with how wrong it felt so I pulled away and looked back to see the projections still staring, as I knew they would.

"They're still looking at us." Ariadne said.

"Yeah, it was worth a shot." I smiled sadly. "We should probably get out of here."

Ariadne turned to look at me, smirking slightly as she realised what I'd done. We left the lobby, taking the stairs to the first floor, out of the way. There would be fewer projections here.

I felt angry again. In a normal world, I would have an everyday job, in an office somewhere, and would settle down and have kids with someone like Ariadne. But my life wasn't normal. I worked in illegal dreamsharing, and I was currently seeing a man who conned people for a living. I was happy with my life, happy with Eames. I'd snapped at him because I wasn't used to having someone care so much, so I'd pushed him away before he could get close to me, scared that I'd been wrong, that he would let me down. Yusuf's words came back to me, and I was instantly overcome with regret. I'd made a huge mistake.

"Ariadne, look…" I began, gently.

She cut me off. "I know, Arthur." She smiled, sadly. "I know about you and Eames, I always suspected, but then I heard your fight in the warehouse. You bring out the best in each other. I know you're angry at him, but you have no reason to be. I think you owe him a massive apology."

I knew she was right. "I'm sorry about the kiss." I admitted.

"What kiss?" She smiled, slyly. "Call him. I'll wait over here where I can't hear you."

"Thank you." I meant it. She'd given me the push that I needed. I clutched my totem in my pocket, and at that moment, all I wanted was to hear Eames' voice, so I called him.

"Eames speaking." He answered, casually, but I could hear it was forced.

"I'm sorry." I said instantly. "I shouldn't have snapped at you, I just wasn't used to having someone care and I panicked."

"It's fine, darling." I could hear Eames smile down the phone and I felt was relieved. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry too. I've always known how you are and I like every bit of it."

"I did something… bad." I said quietly. Eames was silent for a moment.

"What did you do?" He asked eventually, and I could hear the forced calm return to his voice. I bit my lip before answering.

"I kissed Ariadne." I admitted. There was silence for a second, and I could hear my heart racing as I tensed, waiting for his response. I wasn't expecting the response I actually received. He laughed.

"Good God, Arthur, is that all? You and I both know that you're into men. What were you thinking?"

I blushed, scowling. "I don't know." I admitted. "I just lost my head for a moment."

Eames laughed again. "Forget about it, darling. I've got to go for now, I need to meet back up with Saito. Stay safe, won't you?"

"You too." I murmured, pocketing my phone. I felt relieved, unburdened as I signalled for Ariadne to follow me. Eames' forgiveness had just left me feeling positive about the job, so I was ready to get on with my part of it. Ariadne and I took the stairs up to Room 491 so I could set the charges for the kick. I opened the door with the key card I'd dreamt up. Stepping into the luxurious room, we looked around.

"This room should be directly below 528." It was more of a statement than a question, but Ariadne answered it anyway in the affirmative. I opened the safe to reveal the bag which contained the charges and the detonator needed. I began emptying the bag on the bed, as Ariadne stood and watched. I grabbed a chair, and dragged it to the centre of the room, climbing up with one of the charges in my hand. Before I could attach it, my phone rang. It was Cobb.

"Fifth floor." Everything was going to plan.

"Yep." I hung up the phone.

"So do you use a timer?" Ariadne queried, fascinated as I pinned one of the charges to the ceiling.

"No, I have to judge it for myself." I admitted. It was risky, but I'd had a lot of practice, and I had the musical countdown to keep me on time. "While you're all asleep in 528, I wait for Yusuf's kick."

I jumped off the chair and walked over to the cabinet in the corner. I needed to blow the whole floor apart in order to drop them.

"Well, how will you know?" She pressed. It was natural for her to be curious; it was her safety at stake after all.

"His music warns me. And then when the van hits the barrier of the bridge, that should be unmistakeable." I moved the vase from the top of the cabinet onto the floor, and then vaulted onto the cabinet, so I could plant another charge in the corner. "So we get a nice, synchronised kick. If it's too soon, we won't get pulled out. If it's too late, I won't be able to drop us." It was better that she should know the potential dangers.

"Well, why not?" She asked, solemnly. I was glad she recognised the seriousness of the situation.

"Cause the van will be in freefall." I said simply, stepping off the cabinet and dropping gracefully to the floor. "Can't drop you without gravity."

I wasn't sure why I was telling her all of this. She was a fantastic architect, one of the best I'd ever seen, but it was very unlikely that she would continue to work in dreamsharing. She would no doubt finish college and get a normal job. I'd love to work with her again, but this job was too dangerous for someone with no self-defence or military background. She was likely to be a liability more than a help if she came into the dream as someone would have to be focused on protecting her. However, she could still design the layouts, and I would keep her as a contact for that very reason, although, I would probably keep in touch with Ariadne as a friend. She was very likeable, and I would regret not speaking to her again.

"Right." She acknowledged her understanding. I dragged the chair out of the way and nodded for us to head up to the fifth floor. Cobb and Fischer were on their way up. I fired off a quick text to Eames to let him know that we were ready. Arriving on the fifth floor, Ariadne and I waited at the end of the hall, in full view of the lift and just outside Room 528. It chimed its arrival a moment later, and Cobb and Fischer stepped out. Robert stopped and visibly started when he saw us, his wide eyes betraying the fear that he hadn't felt in the warehouse. Obviously the idea of extraction scared him more than pain.

"They're with me." Cobb assured him. "Go on."

Fischer started walking up the hallway, glancing at all the room numbers. I hoped he'd remembered the combination, though the fact that he'd remembered it began with five was a step in the right direction. As he arrived at 528, he stopped, glancing repeatedly from Cobb to the room. He'd recognised it.

In keeping with his role, Cobb pressed an ear to the door. He looked at me, and I swooped round to his rear left, taking my gun out as he removed his own. I clicked the safety off, and cocked it as Cobb kicked open the door. We burst in and began to secure the room. I checked the bathroom, lowering my weapon when I saw it was empty. The PASIV we'd set up was in the bath, and I picked it up.

"Mr Charles." I called, holding it out in front of me.

"Do you know what that is, Mr Fischer?" Cobb asked, as I lay it on the bed, opening it.

"Yeah." Fischer stammered. "I…I think so, yeah."

"They were trying to put you under." Cobb explained. Fischer's head snapped round to stare at him.

"I'm already under." He said, obviously confused.

"Under _again_." Cobb emphasised.

"What do you mean? A…dream within a dream?" Fischer question. I paused, hearing someone approaching.

"Shhh." I hushed everyone quietly, turning to the door. Alert, everyone followed my lead. I moved over to the door, gun raised, ready to disarm whoever came through, Cobb moved behind the door, ready to have my back.

The door opened and I registered it was Browning briefly before I grabbed his arm in one swift motion, using my leg to knock him to the floor and pressing my gun to his neck.

"Uncle Peter." Robert greeted, as Cobb took the key card out of his hand.

"You said you were kidnapped together?" Cobb asked, frowning.

"Well, uh, not exactly." Robert stammered. "They uh…they already had him, they were torturing him."

"And you _saw_ them torture him?" Cobb emphasised. Even after working with Cobb for years, he never failed to surprise me with the ingenuity of his plans; the way every single detail seemed to fall into place.

Fischer panted heavily, shaking his head a few times before realising what Cobb was getting at. He composed himself as he stared at Browning, who bowed his head.

"The kidnappers are working for you?" Robert seemed upset, but not overly surprised. Good, he was beginning to see everything as we needed him to see it. I was surprised by how easy it was to manipulate someone's mind. The only hard part came from the subconscious fighting back, particularly in cases like Fischer, whose security was militarised.

"Robert." Browning sighed.

"You're trying to get that safe open? To get the alternate will?" Fischer frowned, clearly not understanding Browning's motives.

"Fischer Morrow has been my entire life; I can't let you destroy it."

"I'm not gonna throw away my inheritance, why would I?" Robert snapped angrily.

Browning didn't seem perturbed. "I couldn't let you rise to your father's last taunt."

The mark clearly didn't understand what his projection of Browning was trying to tell him. "What taunt?"

"The _will_, Robert. That will. That's his last insult; a challenge for you to build something for yourself by telling you you're not worthy of his accomplishments." Browning explained, impatiently. Fischer turned away, clearly stressed.

"What…that he was…um…d…disappointed, hmm?" He struggled to articulate his words in his misery and anger.

"I'm sorry." Browning said, unable to meet his gaze. "But, he's wrong." He looked up. "You can build a better company than he ever did."

Cobb stepped in. "Mr Fischer, he's lying."

"How do you know?" Robert questioned.

"Trust me; it's my job to know. He's hiding something and we need to find out what that is." Cobb was still talking, but I was distracted by the arrival of Eames and Saito, who walked in, frowning. Eames immediately stepped over to help me restrain Browning, holding him still as I tied the knots on his restraints, and sedating him, pretending to hook him up to the PASIV. Whatever Cobb had said did the trick, as Robert pulled up his sleeve a moment later, nodding his agreement. Cobb stood over him, laying him onto the bed gently as he knocked him out with another mild sedative until we set up the PASIV.

"He's out." He announced.

"Wait, who's subconscious are we going into exactly?" Ariadne became confused again.

"We're going into Fischer's. I told him it was Browning's so he would come and be a part of our team." Cobb explained.

Yeah, that would explain Robert's voluntary sedation. I was impressed; Cobb was really on form during this job, aside from his neglecting to inform the team about the severity of the risks, he hadn't screwed anything up. It was going well.

"He's gonna help us break into his own subconscious." I grinned. It would be Robert's subconscious, but Eames' dream, which meant that if the inception worked, and we all got pulled out, when we were back in the first layer, Robert would no longer sense us as a threat, and his projections wouldn't bother us.

"That's right." Cobb acknowledged. Leaving everyone else to inject themselves, I knelt down under the pretence of giving Eames a hand with the tubes, but in actuality, I wanted a few moments with him before he disappeared into the third layer without me. My heart was racing at the thought of the danger that awaited him on the lower level, but I knew he could handle himself. Between avoiding the projections and timing the kick, I would have enough to do that I wouldn't have much time to fret over his safety.

"Security's going to run you down hard." Eames murmured, concern visible in his tone.

"And I will lead them on a merry chase." I grinned, making light of our situation as I injected the needle into his hand.

"Just be back before the kick." Eames countered, laughing. I tightened the strap on his arm, but my grasp lingered for a few seconds longer, as I was unwilling to let go.

"Go to sleep, Mr Eames." I pretended to scowl, but secretly, I was amused. I saw fondness in his eyes as he nodded once, and I moved over to the PASIV, waiting for Cobb to finish hooking himself up.

"You good?" I asked, seeing he was staring at the window in horror. When he didn't reply, I spoke again, louder. "Hey. You ready?"

"Yes, yes, I'm…I'm fine, I'm… I'm ready." At his words, I turned to Eames as I hit the infusion trigger, watching his eyes flicker shut as he went a level deeper, leaving me behind, alone.

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><p><strong>Thank you all for the kind reviews, please keep them coming :) much appreciated!<strong>


	14. Imagination

**Have another chapter for being such lovely readers and reviewers :)**

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><p>I stood in the middle of the room, amongst my unconscious team. A shudder ran through the room, and I bit my lip, worried. Yusuf's driving was become more erratic as time went on, the projections must have been closing in fast. I needed to move away from 528. If the projections on this layer attempted to find me, I could take them down easily from here, but I risked one of the others being hit. At the same time, I couldn't roam too far, because I needed to be on hand to blow the charges. From the shaking of the hotel, it appeared that Yusuf was running out of time, and so the kick would be coming soon. I slipped of my jacket and shut the briefcase containing the PASIV. I needed to move fast, and have easy access to my gun, I couldn't risk being restricted.<p>

Exiting the room swiftly, I checked the hallway for any projections. There was no one about, so I shut the door behind me. The stairs were a normal route for the projections to take, so I made for the lift. Halfway through the door slid open, and a man in a suit. I recognised him as part of Fischer's security, so I bowed my head, casually turning the corner. He followed suit and I knew he was going to attack. Moving at a normal pace, I slipped behind a wall, removing my gun. As the projection drew closer, I stuck out my arm. Instantly, he reacted, swiping at my arm so I dropped my weapon. He flung me into the wall and I struggled to subdue him. In my peripheral vision, I saw another projection behind me pull his gun out, but he was unable to shoot, because at that moment the stability of the dream dropped and the hallway tipped dramatically. I gained the advantage as Fischer's security was taken by surprise as we were flung into the opposite wall; unfortunately, my advantage was marred by the fact that I was sprawled out on my back.

The floor tipped further and I seized my opportunity, flinging the projection holding me into the wall. He cried out and I watched him fall down the corridor, hitting the lift doors with a painful sounding crash. I hit the recess in the wall, and saw my gun fly past the other projection, who was now sprawled on the floor. I moved quickly, clambering over to grab it, but the projection got there first. I could sense the hallway rotating again, and jumped in time with it, allowing my feet to land coinciding with the shift in gravity, quickly reaching the projection, knocking the gun out of his hand and slamming him to the wall. He was stronger than I had anticipated, and we grappled feverishly, struggling to keep our balance with the constant gravity shifts. I found myself standing on the ceiling, jumping constantly to avoid his reach.

I began to feel desperate. I knew I would be able to immobilise the projection, but I was running out of time, I had to move faster. He grabbed me at the same time as another jerk rotated the hallway again, and we slammed into a door, which opened, leaving us both to slide inside. I jumped up and punched the projection, who was easily able to move me aside and return his own blow. The gun slid past my foot, and I noted its location as I wrestled again with Fischer's security.

He threw me to the floor as the gun slid past me. I slammed my hand down to grab it, but I was a fraction too slow and it skidded across the carpet. The projection pinned me to the bed, but I freed myself, flinging back across the carpet, perfectly timed with another shift in gravity which forced the gun in my direction. This time I didn't miss, firing as the projection dived at me. He slammed into the wall, dead. Immediately I scrambled up, checking the gun to find it was empty. Perfect. Now I had nothing to fight off the other projections. I would have to rely on my fighting skills, which, compared to the militarisation of Fischer's subconscious, was mediocre at best. It was taking too long to fight them, I needed to move quicker.

I slammed out of the room, taking to the fire escape for stairs. The main stairs were too dangerous and the elevator was definitely out of the question for now. I bolted down the stairs, pausing when I heard the noise. _Shit. _It was my cue, I realised, instantly recognising the slowed down version of our musical countdown.

"No, it's too soon." I whispered aloud, filled with horror. We were going to miss the kick. I bolted down the stairs, wrenching open the door that opened onto the fifth floor. Instantly I stopped, seeing two armed projections standing outside Room 528.

"Give me a goddamn break." I thought, frustrated. I had no weapon to take them down with, so I would have to distract them and take them down individually, relying on the hope that I could disarm one.

"Hey!" I shouted, ducking back into the stairs. One of the projections split off and followed me. I raced down the stairs furiously, my mind racing for a way to take down the projection, when it hit me. Paradoxes were my speciality. Halfway down the stairs, the projection appeared, shooting repeatedly at me. I ducked, terrified, before I warped the dream layer, racing back up a different set of stairs and grabbing the projection from behind, holding his wrist firmly, and keeping a firm grip on the back of his neck.

"Paradox." I said, shoving him roughly over the edge. He screamed as he fell. I winced, hearing the sickening crunch of him hitting the concrete stairs beneath. Even though they were projections, it was still uncomfortable, killing. I didn't have time to linger or bear any guilt, as I had less than two minutes until Yusuf made the jump, so I had to get back to 528 and blow the charges. I was just too late. Just a few metres from the room door, I was propelled forward through the air. Yusuf had hit the barrier. I'd missed the kick.

Luckily, the version of Somnacin we were using which sedated us also meant we needed a multi-synchronised kick to get out. Even though I wasn't asleep, I still needed a kick on this level in order to bring me out, so I wouldn't leave the others trapped. It really was an ingenious piece of chemistry.

But now I was faced with the problem of how to get us out. I'd instructed Ariadne to place the bridge over water in case we did miss the first kick, giving us a second. Cobb and Ariadne both recognised my motives, so they could inform the others that we could in fact still get out. But it didn't leave me very long to invent and implement a strategy that would drop us without gravity. All while calculating the amount of time it would take us to fall so I could time the kick exactly right.

The lack of gravity meant I would have to use my arms and legs to propel myself forward, as if I was swimming through air. I was suddenly thankful Eames wasn't around to see me, because I knew I would look like a complete idiot. It was necessary though, and I didn't have time to feel embarrassed by how I looked. It was unprofessional, and I really needed to work fast.

I kicked myself along to 528 and opened the door with the key card. Opening the door, I saw exactly what I expected to see. Everyone was floating in mid-air, including the PASIV, which meant the tubes were floating everywhere.

"How do I drop you without gravity?" I whispered aloud, looking around the room for inspiration. Then it hit me. The lift. I could use the charges to blow up the shaft, which would force the elevator up. If all went to plan, the impact of the lift hitting the roof would force everyone to shoot upwards and serve as an improvised kick. I smiled to myself. And Eames insisted I had no imagination.

The problem was that I needed to get down to 491, retrieve the charges, get back up and move everyone into the elevator and set the charges up, all in under three minutes. I would have to move quickly. Determinedly, I began kicking my way to the fourth floor, using the lights to help me move from one to the next. It was faster than floating. Arriving at a blockade made by a trolley, I moved it out of the way to reveal a projection that had been trapped against the ceiling. Seeing him reach for his gun, I swung it back up, slamming the trolley at the projections face, before I did the same with my fist. I did _not_ have time to deal with this again. We grappled for a moment, each failing to get the upper hand, before he swung at punch at my face. I felt the momentary sting of the blow, before I lashed out, grabbing his throat and cutting off his oxygen supply. I pinned the projection's own arm around his throat so he couldn't fight back. It didn't take long to render him unconscious, and I pushed myself away, heading for 491 to retrieve the charges.

Opening the door, it was simple enough to rip the charges down from the ceiling and grab the bag to carry them. A glance at my watch told me time was running short. If I didn't make this kick, we would have to live out the entire duration of the dream, which meant six months for me, and ten years for the others. It wasn't a viable option, particularly with the security. Once again, I used the lights to transport myself back up to 528.

It would be easier and quicker to move everyone to the lift together, so I began lining everyone up so that they were floating one on top of the other. I paused when I reached Saito, seeing droplets of blood fly out of his mouth. He wasn't going to make it.

Looking around for some sort of rope or wires to bind everyone together, my gaze fell on the electrical sockets on the wall. I moved over swiftly and began ripping the wires out. They would be strong enough to keep everyone together without them floating away, as well as making it easier to get everyone to the elevator. I wrapped the cables around the team, rotating them so they were bound tightly. I didn't have time to risk them coming loose.

It was a lot harder manoeuvring in zero gravity when transporting five other people and a briefcase, but I managed it relatively quickly. Opening the lift doors, I pushed everyone in, kicking myself up to the roof of the elevator.

I ran my hands along the trapdoor which opened onto the lift shaft, and struck it hard with my fist, forcing it to open. Climbing out, I scrambled along the side of the elevator until I found what I was looking for. The emergency brake. I attached one of the charges to it and scrambled up the rope, out of the range of the blast, before detonating it. It blew up the brake and the rope that I was holding snapped upwards, almost ripping my hand off. Good. This was exactly what I needed. I climbed back down towards the elevator and set the three remaining charges on the underside.

All that was left to do now was untie everyone and set up the musical countdown. I scrambled back into the lift and tore the wires away; noticing the gunshot wound on Saito had gotten worse, the blood soaking through his shirt now. He didn't have long left. I slipped the headphones from the bag that had also contained the charges onto Eames, brushing my fingers through his hair. I hoped fiercely that everything had gone well in the layer below, that he would come back. I crouched in the corner, checking my watch again. I estimated that we had around thirty five seconds left. Counting to five, I hit play, allowing the sound of Edith Piaf to fill his ears.

Thirty seconds left. I gripped the handrail tightly, pulling the detonator from my pocket, ready to blow the charges as soon as the music stopped. With a hell of a lot of luck, and if my timing was right, the kick should be synchronised, and at the very least I would ride the kick back up to Yusuf. Whether the others woke too was entirely dependent on their kick below. It was probably the longest thirty seconds of my life. I was counting down, nodding my head with each second.

At the end of the countdown, I hit the button, feeling the lift move upwards with surprising speed. I shut my eyes and bowed my head, braced for impact.

A few seconds later, I felt the lift hit the barrier of the roof and force everyone upwards. My eyes flew open and everything went black.

My eyes opened upon impact with the water. It had worked. I held my breath, knowing I had to wait until Fischer disappeared. I hadn't banked on him taking Eames with him; I didn't have the chance to check if the forger was alive, and I needed to see him as soon as possible. Professionalism be damned; the job was over and all I wanted was to feel his lips against mine. Once Fischer was clear, I took one of the oxygen masks we'd stored, handing it to Ariadne as I noticed that Saito was dead. My heart clenched. After everything, Cobb wouldn't be able to go home. She passed the mask back to me, nodding she was okay and I took a large gulp of oxygen, swimming forward to check Cobb had enough air.

I froze; my face a mask of horror and disbelief. No. No way. I grabbed his shoulder, refusing to believe it. Ariadne swam out of the van, tugging at my arm. Obviously she knew what had happened. I refused to move, tugging at Cobb's arm, crying out in pain and frustration, getting nothing but a mouthful of water for my trouble. He couldn't be stuck there again, I needed him. He was my best friend, had been for as long as I could remember. I felt the pain of his loss acutely, not knowing what I would do without him. Every fear I'd had concerning this job, every possibility that I'd considered … this had never been one of them. Cobb knew what he was doing; he would never have been killed. He knew the risks.

My breath was running short, so I had to leave, swimming up to the surface strongly, but feeling like half of me was sinking with the van. I caught up with Ariadne and Yusuf at the surface, scrambling onto some rocks.

"What happened?" I demanded, pain evident in my tone as soon as we were out of the water.

"Cobb stayed." Ariadne replied.

"With Mal?" I queried. I knew he felt her loss greatly, day after day. But I'd never thought he'd risk limbo to be with her, to leave his children, to leave me.

"No, to find Saito." She explained. I sighed, fearing the worst. He'd never find him in limbo; it was too large, too difficult. And if he did find him, it would be too late. The longer he spent down there, the higher the risk of his mind being trapped there permanently.

"He'll be lost." I stated, looking at the river. I couldn't bring myself to meet Ariadne's eyes as I said it, fearing I would break down. Ariadne was a lovely girl, but at the minute, nothing she could say would console me. At that moment, all I wanted was Eames with me, to keep me grounded.

"No, he'll be alright." She seemed certain. I didn't press her for more information, unwilling to talk about it myself. I stayed on the rocks with her for a few more minutes, before I rose suddenly, intent on finding Eames.

"Make sure you tell Eames he did a great job." Ariadne smiled up at me. I couldn't bring myself to return the gesture, but I nodded, not even questioning that she knew where I was going. I found him a few metres along the river. He didn't look up when I approached, showing that he'd been waiting for me. I suddenly found that everything I'd wanted to say had disappeared along with the fear of death.

"Where's Fischer?" I asked eventually. Eames nodded towards some rocks. I could just make out a figure sitting beside them.

"Cobb and Saito didn't make it out." I said quietly. Eames' head shot up at my words, and his gaze searched my face.

"I'm sorry." He said. I sat down next to him. He leaned over and squeezed my elbow affectionately, and I was grateful for the contact. I nodded my thanks.

"Ariadne thinks Cobb stayed to bring back Saito." I said, realising that talking to Eames was helping with the pain. "If it works, he should wake just after we do."

Eames looked at me seriously and I knew what he was thinking.

"I know it's a slim possibility. But if I don't grab on to it, I think I'll go mad." I kept my voice steady, but I felt tears prick my eyes. I blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. If I was going to mourn over my best friend, it would be in reality, once it was actually confirmed that he wouldn't be coming back.

I turned to look at Eames and held out my hand. He took it and I placed my other hand on top.

"I'm glad I've got you." I whispered. He smiled at me, happily, and I leaned forward. He met me halfway and our lips met. It was like our first kiss all over again: gentle, hesitant, filled with promises. All too soon, I pulled back, regretfully.

"We're going to have to talk about this when we wake up." I said. Eames nodded his agreement. There was still so much we had to discuss, whether there was a future with us, what would happen with dreamsharing… but for now, I was content to sit here in the rain, holding hands with the man I needed beside me, at the minute more than ever.

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><p><strong>One more chapter left, and an epilogue! The next chapter should be up within a few days. Please review! :)<strong>


	15. Aftermath

**Here's the last chapter! I hope you all like it! Just the epilogue left, which will be up by the end of the week :)**

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><p>Living out the rest of the week without breaking down was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I'd never expected to have to spend the rest of this week quashing my worry over the potential loss of my best friend. My mood was only worsened by the very little time I was able to spend with Eames. Fischer's security wouldn't bother us unless we made a move to threaten him, but there were still risks. We had to keep an eye on him to make sure he wasn't accidentally killed; it wouldn't do to have him sent back to limbo after all our hard work; all our sacrifices. So Eames and I had to take turns shadowing Fischer, ensuring nothing went wrong. On the rare occasions Eames and I did get a few moments alone, we discussed the job and the things we'd missed.<p>

He told me about everything that had happened on the third layer; Mal showing up, Fischer's death and subsequent return from limbo. I gritted my teeth as Eames brushed over the danger he'd faced, distracting the entire army so Fischer could get to the strong room without any delays. I was furious that Cobb had asked Eames to do something so dangerous, so reckless. I voiced this opinion, and Eames smiled at me tenderly.

"A few months ago, would you have felt that it was too dangerous for me?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No. Obviously, I would still have felt some sort of concern, but I'd know you were capable of it."

Eames smiled triumphantly. "Exactly. So if I have the capabilities, where's the issue?"

I had no answer for him immediately, so I took a few minutes to think. "I'm not disputing that you could handle it; I've no doubt in my mind that you could take on double that amount of projections. But there's always a risk. I don't want to lose you." I confessed.

Eames leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. Even when he pulled away I still felt the tingling the contact had caused. He winked and stood up as Fischer appeared, casually tailing him round the corner.

The next time we managed to have a conversation was at the end of the week. We had less than an hour left before we would wake up on the plane, so the four of us were gathered in Ariadne's hotel room, talking over the job. Ariadne turned to me.

"So how did you drop us? I didn't have time to register where we were before we woke up here."

"With difficulty." I admitted. "I moved us all into the lift and blew up the emergency brake. When we hit the roof we were all thrown upwards, creating the acceleration we needed to wake up."

Eames burst out laughing, and I turned to him, almost offended. I thought I'd been pretty inventive.

"And I said you have no imagination." He grinned, clapping me on the back. I grinned good-humouredly, but didn't deign to give him a response.

I felt a lot better now; Ariadne had told me everything that had happened in limbo. When Mal had woken up from her time there, I'd known something was wrong, but I hadn't known exactly how bad it was. I'd never suspected that it was due to Cobb performing inception on his own wife. I felt guilty that I hadn't noticed that he'd been hiding his own guilt this whole time, that I hadn't realised what had happened. My remorse was slightly lessened by the knowledge that Cobb had hidden his secret well, but when it came down to it, in the end, he hadn't trusted me. He hadn't trusted me with the knowledge that inception was possible, that he was responsible for the idea that destroyed Mal's life.

"It isn't a matter of trust." Eames whispered in my ear, his voice low enough that the others couldn't hear what he was saying. I blinked in surprise, wondering how he'd known what I was thinking.

"You looked sad. It's not hard to guess." He answered my unspoken question. "You know him better than anyone, Arthur. Why didn't he tell you?"

The answer came to me easily, as if I'd always known it. "I was all he had left. He didn't want to lose me too."

Eames nodded at me approvingly before wandering over to Ariadne. I heard him saying he was going to turn in. Waking up after this long in the dream world could be unnerving and disorienting; it passed much more easily if you were relaxed for the transition. I didn't think I would be able to relax, within the hour I would find out whether my best friend and partner would wake up, or whether he would be trapped in limbo.

Eames paused at the door. "Coming?" He offered. I hesitated. "Suit yourself." He shrugged. "You can stay here and mope, or you can lie down with me and I'll try to cheer you up."

I saw his logic, and followed him along to his room. It was always his room, like he was trying to keep my room separate from our relationship, as if he didn't want to invade on my space. I stopped him from opening the door, by placing a hand on his arm.

"I think my room has more space." I said hesitantly. Eames turned to me, eyes shining. It seemed to be a big deal to him.

"Alright." He said simply, following me to the next door along. I let him in and shrugged off my jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair before sitting down on the bed. I kicked my shoes off and lay back, and motioned for Eames to join me. He did so, pulling me into his arms. I lay against his chest, the rhythmic sounds of his heartbeat soothing me; and the rise and fall of his chest under my head having a surprisingly calming effect. I hadn't thought that was possible, but I had quickly learnt that nothing was impossible when the forger was involved.

Not a word was spoken between us as the time ticked away, until there were only seconds remaining. My mind mentally counted down from twenty. Eames took my hand as I lay in his arms. Ten seconds left. Eight seconds.  
>"I'll see you on the plane, darling." He murmured, leaning forward to kiss me. Our lips had just met when everything faded and I found myself back on the flight.<p>

I stood up quickly, ripping the PASIV from my arm and motioning for the others to do the same. Once Eames, Ariadne and Yusuf had removed their wristbands, I changed the dosage, to keep Fischer, Cobb and Saito under for another five minutes. Fischer needed to stay sedated until I'd moved the PASIV. Cobb and Saito…that was all I could give them. They needed to wake up before the Somnacin ran out.

Once I'd packed the PASIV away, the flight attendant came to take it back to the locker. I would pick it up after the flight. A few moments later, Fischer stirred, his eyes flickering open. He didn't looked like he'd suffered a life-changing epiphany, but then, that sort of thing was impossible to tell. He did look slightly more thoughtful however, choosing to stare out of the window for the rest of the flight.

The flight attendant came round holding a tray of hot towels. I refused the proffered item, staring at Cobb's sleeping form, willing him to wake. Eames took one, applying it to his face. I was amused. Eames was never one to turn down luxury. The attendant moved over to Cobb and I held my breath. His eyes flickered open and I sighed, relief flooding through me. I grinned at Eames, who smiled back at me, symbolising that he was glad.

"Hot towel, sir? We'll be landing in Los Angeles in about twenty minutes. Do you need immigration forms?"

"Thank you." Cobb seemed a little lost, but took the forms. It was to be expected, being snapped back to reality after spending so long in limbo. Cobb's eyes shot up to search the cabin, falling on me first. I couldn't remove the smile from my face, so I bowed my head, laughing, bringing my gaze back up to stare at the man who had been my best friend for longer than I cared to remember. I couldn't help the joy that I felt upon knowing that he was alive, that this business hadn't destroyed him. His eyes roamed over to Ariadne, and then to the seat that was occupied by Saito.

His brow furrowed as he stared at Saito, and I knew he was awake. We had all made it out alive. I heard the dial tone of the inflight telephones and knew Saito was making good on his promise. Cobb was going home to his kids. I reached over and took Eames' hand, not caring if everyone saw us. I beamed at him, fondly, unable to feel anything other than ecstatic.

When we arrived at passport control, I went first, shortly followed by Yusuf and Saito. Saito was waiting patiently, to ensure Cobb had no trouble getting through. He didn't, following us through after just a few moments. When Eames came through, we took our leave, shaking hands with Saito and Yusuf and promising to contact the latter if we ever needed a chemist. Saito was flying back to Paris in his private jet and promised to drop Ariadne on the way back. I laughed at her misery. She had been on two very long flights over the last few days, and now she was due one more.

"Take care of yourself." Eames told her, pulling her into a hug. She blushed instantly, nodding, before turning to me.

"We'll keep in touch." I assured her. "By the end of the week, I promise."

She nodded, and I copied Eames' earlier action of scooping her into a hug. I was fond of Ariadne, and intended to discuss the possibility of her become our permanent architect. If Eames and I decided to stay in the extraction business.

Finally, there were just the three of us left.

"I'm gonna spend some time with the kids." Cobb explained. "Maybe a year or two. Then I'll see about going back into the legal dreamsharing business. There's still a lot that we can find out."

I nodded, unable to speak. Over the last twenty-four hours, in real time, I'd almost lost my life and my partner. It was overwhelming to deal with, particularly knowing he would at last be going home to his children. I was surprised he was going back into dreamsharing at all, but he felt as passionate about it as I did. He wouldn't be able to stay away long.

"Take care of yourself Cobb." I eventually managed. "Say hello to the kids from me."

"You'll have to come and visit." He offered. "Both of you." He nodded at Eames, and I felt a pang of loyalty and gratitude towards my friend. I knew he'd never approved fully of Eames, but he would do his best to ensure that he showed him the same kindness that he showed me, accepting my relationship with the forger.

"Look after him." He said seriously to Eames. "If you hurt him…"

"Not going to happen." Eames cut him off, equally as solemn. "Trust me. I've waited long enough for him, I won't be letting him go any time soon."

There didn't seem to be anything more to be said on their part, so Eames disappeared to retrieve his baggage.

I shook hands with Cobb and then followed Eames to get my bag, spotting Yusuf at the luggage carousel as I wheeled a trolley towards it. Cobb strode past me, bag in hand, heading for the exit. I smiled at him on the way past, turning to watch him leave. As I watched him head out of the door, my eyes fell on Eames who was leaning against his trolley impatiently, waiting for me. I picked up my bag and headed over to him, leaving the trolley I'd collected. He motioned for me to put my bag down on top of his. I hesitated.

"What if this doesn't work?" I asked Eames, calmly. There were no guarantees. When we'd first got together, he'd told me it wouldn't be easy. Looking back, that time seemed so long ago, but it hadn't been more than a week. Now, things had changed a lot, we had so much to discuss with our futures. He'd once shown me enough consideration to allow me to weigh up my options. Now it was time for me to return the favour.

"It will." He said firmly, so certain, it made me smile.

"What are you, psychic?" I teased.

Eames grinned. "Of course. Here…" He grabbed my hand, uncurling my fingers, my palm facing upwards. His index finger traced a line on my hand, and it tickled.

"This line here means you'll be spending the rest of your life with me." Eames said, staring my straight in the eyes.

I laughed and batted his hand away, grinning at him. We were both sure this was what we wanted. There was nothing else left to say. Walking out of the airport, I took his hand, savouring the feel of his smooth skin entwined with mine. There were no declarations of love; to be perfectly honest, love was something we hadn't discussed yet. But it would come, with time.

Looking over at my lover and friend, I felt a rush of affection and contentment, He'd overturned my life, but I would only ever be thankful for it. Eames symbolised everything I'd ever needed and feared. I had never found anyone that I wanted by my side, but after so short a time, I couldn't imagine not being with him.  
>My mind drifted over the entirety of the job, and everything Eames had said and done. I wouldn't want things to be any different.<p>

I thought back to the music that had featured so prominently in our dreamsharing, particularly during the inception, and smiled. 'No regrets' was a philosophy I'd always lived by. But now it was more apt than ever.

"No, I have no regrets." I thought, looking at our joined hands. "Because my life, my joys, today they begin with you."

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><p><strong>The epilogue will be up soon, and will contain smut and fluff. I really hope you enjoyed the last chapter, please review!<strong>


	16. Author's Note

**Since Fanfiction has been taking down stories that contain smut, a few chapters (including eight, nine and the epilogue) have been edited and/or taken down to adhere to the M rating.**

**I've edited chapters eight and nine, but the epilogue has been taken down permanently as I cannot remove the smut without changing the entire chapter.**

**I'm honestly devastated that after more than seven years of using Fanfiction, they have just started to enforce this rule, resulting in the removal of the epilogue; a chapter I feel is greatly important to understanding the future of the relationship between Arthur and Eames.**

**If you would like a link to download the full uncensored version, either review or PM me, and I'll be happy to oblige.**

**But to anyone that's interested, the sequel/companion fic is now up, written from Eames' point of view. It's a series of six oneshots, all of different periods in his life with Arthur, some of which were references in this fic, and is called _Darling_._  
><em>**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing. Your support has been fantastic.**

**-Diceandpokerchips**


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